Posts Tagged ‘lock down’

Baby Steps

March 8, 2022

I had an in person session today at my office.

It was good.

It was also good to actually meet this client in person as we have never met in person before.

They started with me during the first shelter in place lock down.

I am coming up on the anniversary of that event.

And having some anniversary feelings.

I remember well the week prior, two years ago, things were playing out in the on again off again relationship I had been desperately trying to figure out for years.

Not playing out well, in the end, that relationship ended.

I still have pangs over that.

Why didn’t he figure it out?

Why couldn’t we make it work?

Why?

Why, I am always reminded is not a spiritual question.

It doesn’t help and knowing why is some sort of balm my brain wants to have to explain away the inexplicable.

It just was.

It just couldn’t work.

I just didn’t work.

And no matter how hard I tried I only got hurt.

I have been thinking a lot about relationships, dating, who I am, what I want.

In some persistent way I have always stowed away this thought of marriage, commitment, partnership.

Yet.

I have never really gotten close.

Despite a former “semi” proposal when I was in my mid-twenties from my one and only really “long term” relationship.

Is five years a long term relationship?

Anyway.

Why marriage?

Why partnership?

Wearing a dress, having a ceremony?

Societal expectations?

Family expectations?

My expectations?

Expectations typically lead to resentments.

I do crave company and touch and physical connection, I’m not going to deny that; but historically marriage is actually not great for women.

In a heteronormative marriage that is.

They work more, care take more, do more of the household labor.

Men actually statistically reap huge benefits being married.

Women not so much.

So why do I want it?

When I think about what I want I think about the physical connection of being with a man, I like closeness and, I hate the fucking wording of this, one of my “love languages” is non-sexual physical touch.

I’m cuddly.

Which the last guy I dated did not provide.

I love sex.

Don’t get me wrong, sex is definitely still a need, that drive is still there at 49, and may it be for some time thank you very much, although a touch softer of a demand then it used to be.

But affection.

I crave affection.

Hand holding, massage, leaning into someone, having my head rubbed.

Sigh.

But does that have to preclude being married?

I mean.

I might be putting the cart before the horse.

Am I shutting myself down from potential connection thinking better do it for the long haul?

Also.

What do I need from a partnership that I’m not already giving myself?

I love to travel, I love my home, I have a great space (when it’s not being invaded by the sonic intrusion of DJ Douche Bag upstairs), I don’t share it with anyone.

Well.

My cats.

They do think they own everything.

I keep my space the way I like it.

I have my schedule the way I like it.

I do my own thing.

What do I think I am missing out on?

What if I wasn’t missing out on anything?

I think some of this is just being really comfortable with my life and starting to find a nicer balance now that I’m not in the PhD mode all the time and have gotten a modicum of space from the last surgery I had and some decent recovery in my body.

Also.

Thank God.

My back is feeling much better.

A very easy weekend, lots of rest, lots of heating pad.

I’m actually using the heating pad right now too.

It is just nice after my day at the office.

I still need to dial a few things in there.

I’m going to pop over to Black & Gold on Valencia and pick up a vintage coat rack I’ve been eye-balling for months.

I could use an alternative set up chargers for my MacBook and a small extension cord by my desk for all the things I need plugged in–not all of my sessions are in person, I still am doing plenty, the majority of my session via video.

And one more hanging plant for my office.

But other than that, it’s such a sweet, welcoming space and I was happy to be there in my sessions today.

I ran five, only one was in person, from my office and one from home this morning.

Tomorrow I will be at home fully, all my sessions are remote.

I will be going in again on Thursday as I have a client that wants to be coming back in person.

This client was one of the last, although not the last, clients I saw in person prior to lock down.

It will have been two years.

I’m so grateful for this small baby step into a different experience with therapy and seeing my clients.

It’s not “back to normal”.

I don’t know if it’s the new normal.

It’s just nice to be getting a little more engagement with the world.

And maybe that’s how I look at dating, partnership, relationships.

Just with some curiosity and lightness and that I don’t have to figure it out.

Figure it out is a shit slogan.

For now.

Everything is exactly the way it’s supposed to be.

It always is, truthfully.

I just sometimes get stuck in thinking it would be better if….

If what?

And why wait to be happy, when…

I am happy now.

And that is good enough.

It really is.

Enforced Retail Therapy

July 13, 2013

I got up today and was mellow, quiet, head full of peace.

Oh, thank you Jeebus, the writing I did last night worked.

I could care less about my job, the money, any of it, I had a quiet head and that was such a blessing I went about my morning with nary a care.

Just do the laundry, do the writing, drink some coffee, and log a little bit of time for the design firm sifting through e-mails and projects.

I only had a few things on my agenda today.

Pick up a package at FedEx and swing by Sugarlump to have an iced coffee with a lady, followed up by more getting what I need over at 2900 24th Street and then back to Graceland for a mellow evening in.

In between this I had some thoughts, maybe, just maybe, I would actually go buy that pair of jeans that I have been talking about getting since I decimated my last pair in Paris four months ago.

I got my package at FedEx–my playa boots–and walked leisurely over to 766 Valencia Street to chat with the guys at the bike shop about the saddle I ordered for my Burning Man bicycle, just a nice little heads up that I had a package coming in my name.

It’s nice to have a place to send stuff.

I popped into the design office, sorted through the junk mail, put the other mail on her desk and slit open the box.

Please let them fit.

They did!

And they are so cute I am tempted to not wear them at Burning Man.

The dust will kill them.

However, they were cheap enough that should I decide I must have another pair upon my return I can buy another pair.  The beautiful thing for me is that for the first time in seven years, yes, I am about to turn a Burning Man seven, I got myself a new pair of boots specifically for the event.  Something comfortable for three weeks of being on playa.

This year I feel like a lot of work is going to be waiting for me out there and I need to be prepared for it.  Socks, underpants, boots, baby wipes, tights, one utility belt, hats, sunglasses, sunblock, a parasol, and the little bit of gear I need to make my bike a comfortable ride.

I am finally seeing my importance in regards to self-care out there is the number one thing I can do for my enjoying the event.

I will be of service, that’s a huge point to me going, there’s a community that I get to help enjoy the event and I love that I am a little cog in the machine.

But to really do my job, I have to take care of my basics.

I also got a lovely message from a dear friend who has some extra bedding for me to take up to the event.

Rock on.

As I broke down the box to recycle I decided that I was going to go to Nordstrom’s Off The Rack and look for a pair of jeans.

It was time.

I stashed the boots in the office and went to the bike.

I hopped on, not trying to get anywhere too fast, there was a small voice I heard quite loudly that said, take it slow today, and I crossed Valencia street on foot pushing my bicycle across, rather than try to snake through the traffic.

I cut over at 14th then turned onto Bryant to hit the Trader Joes/Nordie’s/Pier One/Pete’s/Bed, Bath, Beyond block of stores.

There was a cop car screaming behind me and I pulled into the left lane to let it pass while another car almost cut me off getting out-of-the-way of the police car.

I noticed the guy sitting by the newspaper dispensers on 8th opening a bottle of Two Buck Chuck from Trader Joes with a wine key.

Clever that.

He spare changed me in a quiet voice but was quite intent on opening the bottle in his hands.

That reminds me, I want to stop at Trader Joes and grab a few things, my brain debated while I was walking my bicycle into the parking structure, which way do I want to go?

Left to the grocery store?

Right to the clothes store?

I was prompted to the right, my gut said go there, grocery store after.

Thank God I listened.

Had I been locked down in Trader Joes for an hour and a half I do not want to know what would have happened, 13 days abstinent on my food program, it might have been a challenge more than I could have taken.

As it was I meandered over to the Nordie’s, locked up my bike and went inside.

It was fairly quiet, not as many folks as I thought there would be and I felt like I must remember this time, so that if I had to shop there again I would do so during this hour, there was barely a person in the store.

I went through the racks looking, not seeing anything, taking my time poking around, they had just re-arranged everything, so I was getting a new look at the lay out when the music was interrupted and a woman’s voice came over the loud speakers.

“Attention Nordstrom’s shoppers, by direct order of the San Francisco police department the store is now on lock down.  No customers may leave or enter the store.  Please remain calm and stay away from all windows.”

What the fuck?

For a moment I thought, some dip ass is shop lifting and they are going to be winnowed out, there was a homeless cross-dresser in the women’s lingerie that I was pretty sure was stuffing tights down his/her baggy pants.

I ignored the announcement and went back to perusing the racks.

Wait.

Did it say, stay away from the windows?

I flinched back from a large pane glass window as another fleet of cop cars went screaming by.

What the hell?

Music interrupted again.

“Attention shoppers, please be aware that the Nordstrom’s Rack store is now on lock down by direction of the San Francisco police department.  We will alert you when you may leave the store.  Please stay away from the windows and do not panic.”

Ok.

Backing away from the windows and taking a haul of clothes to a dressing room to hide in.

I tweeted my status and was hit up by a few folks who let me know a gunman had fired at the Jewelry Center just around the corner.

Well, looks like I have all the time in the world to try on pants.

Again, thank God I did not go grab my snack first.

By the time I had gone through all the pants, yes, I did find a pair, the store was finally allowed to release the shoppers.

I paid for my jeans, a few new pairs of panties, and a new tank top, stuffed it all in my bag and walked out over to Trader Joes.

It was like the zombie apocalypse.

There was no one there.

No cars in the lot.

No customers in line.

I zoomed in and out in three minutes.

Hopped on my bike and headed through the worst traffic I have seen in the SOMA.

Grateful for my bicycle today.

Grateful for the retail therapy.

Grateful I did not get shot.

It really is nice to be alive.

With a new pair of jeans to be alive in.


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