Mid-term Madness

And I’m done.

I’m done with my mid-terms.

See you later Felicia.

Bye.

I was up late last night doing my CBT homework and reading, I had to have an assignment turned in and yesterday was far busier than I had thought it was going to be, especially since I made up my solo supervision right after my group supervision (my solo supervisor was on vacation last week and I must have a certain amount of supervision to see clients, I went over the amount that just doing my group would cover) and then did some errands and went and did the deal.

Fuck that was good.

I got exactly what I needed.

And then I came home, ate a late dinner, did some CBT reading, talked with my best friend, then when we wrapped up I went into the rest of it and did the assignment and got it done.

Today I let myself sleep 8 hours.

So sexy.

Then got up and went to yoga, even though I knew it was going to be a challenging class, which it was, oh my god the amount of sweat, but it was also super good to be in my body and not in my head about my homework.

I had some moments of anxiety yesterday when I was trying to figure out how to get the work done in between just doing the daily chores of living that I needed to take care of, like laundry and grocery shopping.

My weekdays are generally pretty full, work, clients, etc, and then when I am loaded up with homework the weekends become a push to make it all happen.

Thankfully I just took it moment to moment and it got done.

It all got done.

Oh sure.

I still have reading to do, but I won’t have class for a couple of weekends, my next weekend of classes is November, 9, 10, 11.

So there is a little time to do the reading that still needs to be done and I will have another paper I have to write, but it’s not due until I’m actually in class.

My Transpersonal Psychology paper had to be done today.

It is due on Tuesday, but fuck me, like I’d have any kind of time to write it tomorrow or Tuesday.

I have solo supervision tomorrow at 9 a.m., work from 11-6p.m. and two clients from 6:30-8:30 p.m.  Not really a day that screams extra time to write a mid-term.

And same on Tuesday, 9:30 a.m. my own therapy, and the work and clients is the same.

I had to do it today.

And I got it done.

It went fast.

It was an easy paper for me to write.

I knew when I read the description of what the paper needed to be about that I would be able to knock it out in an hour, hour and a half tops.

It wasn’t a super long paper, four pages, and I can write that pretty quick.

I have the word.

Worlds of words.

I’m a little word whore.

I love language and writing and poetry and I find it all comes together when I’m writing academic papers.

I have a method that works really well for me, the only catch being is that I must read everything that is pertinent to the paper, it’s where I get my ideas on what to write on.

I underline and highlight and star things that resonate with me.

Then when it’s time to write the paper I go through my books and readers and I look at the things that I star and then I take post it notes and jot down what works for the paper.

I usually end up with much more material than I could reference, I did this time, the paper required 2-3 references and I used 4.

I wrote the full four pages too, and I could have written a couple more.

Writing a short paper or piece can actually be harder, I’m good at rambling.

I like to use pretty language and make pictures on the paper.

Suffice to say I wrote the paper fairly quick and I was happy with the outcome.

I proofed it and saved it and then sent the T.A. a copy and my professor a copy.

I’ll have one more paper, which will be bigger as it’s the final paper, plus a group project for this class before the semester is over.

I haven’t yet cracked the reading for the next set of classes, but I had read everything for this past weekend, so yeah, the paper was fresh in my head and quite easy to just let it all come out.

So, so, so stinking grateful for my blog practice.

It has helped me in more ways than I can enumerate.

And, yes, it’s a nice way to shake the rest of the day out of my body and be present in the moment, sitting happy and calm and relaxed in my body.

Listening to Leonard Cohen and feeling dreamy.

Thinking about my next tattoo.

Not worrying about the week.

The week will happen.

The time will pass.

And the next week shall come without me being anxious about it.

Actually next weekend could be pretty nice for me, I don’t think I have to write anything big for the next weekend of classes, though I know I’ll need to double-check, aside from a short two page paper on whatever dream happens to happen for me in the next week or two.

I haven’t had any that I can remember.

Just little snippets of things.

I am a dreamy lady though, I suspect there will be something to write on.

Grateful I made it through my weekend and though I didn’t exactly have time off, days without needing to be somewhere or do something, I did get enough of being outside in the sun.

I read outside for two hours today and ate a meal on my back porch which was super lovely.

I did talk with people I love.

I did meet with a lady and do the deal.

And yes.

I got my mid-terms finished.

I’ll take it.

Yes.

Yes I fucking will.

Thank you very much.

Feeling Better

And almost through the weekend of classes.

The air quality improved substantially today.

So much better.

I have still had a low-grade cough, raw throat and tight and sore sinuses, but the air is better and tonight when I rode my scooter home I could take deep breaths and it felt so, so good.

There are still fires burning, but today felt like hope, that maybe there was an end in sight and that as the day passed things felt better and better.

I don’t know, I can’t predict a thing, but it was something to breathe better today.

The small things that I can take for granted, fresh air, good water, my home, it was with great gratitude that I drew those clean breaths of air, such goodness, just a big simple drawing in of air.

Ah.

I can feel my head ache easing and I know that the air quality has substantially improved.

This morning when I got up it was registering at unhealthy and there was ash again all over my scooter and a distinct smell of wood burning in the air, it was hazy and smudgy and smokey and my first class of the day was boxed up in a hot airless room.

But by the afternoon it started to shift and I left campus to grab lunch with a friend at The Market, the chi chi high-end grocery store in the Twitter building, they have a poke bar that I like to eat at if I’m going to blow a wad of money on lunch rather than eat the food that I brought with me.

I was happy to get out of the school building, the air felt fresher and it just continued to improve throughout the day.

So grateful.

So, so, so grateful.

And I’m also grateful that I only have one more class to get through tomorrow and that will put my squarely at the half way point of the semester.

I will have two more weekends of classes and then the winter break.

I’m doing pretty good, I’ve participated,  caught up on all my reading for this weekend, and I turned in the paper that was due for my Jungian Dream Work class.

I have a mid-term paper due on the 24th of the month for my Transpersonal class that I figure I will write the paper next weekend.

Then two more weekends of classes and I will enter the final semester of my Masters in Counseling Psychology.

Fuck.

I am doing this, I’m doing this, it’s really happening.

It’s been so much work and sacrifice.

I don’t always talk about that, the things that I have had to let go of to participate in the program while still working full-time.

I have given up going to birthday parties, out dancing, movies, fellowship, dates, dinner with friends, people and places and stuff that I used to do on a much regular basis.

It’s been hard.

I have felt sad when I have not been able to connect.

And yet.

I have spent so much time figuring out how to connect with people, with grace, with God, with service, with learning what I need to learn to better serve my community.

And.

Yes.

To have a fucking career where in I can make some money.

Oh.

I know, I’m not going to make a grand amount, but I am going to make so much more than what I make as a nanny, unless I get some super cush job, but the fact is, I’m ready to not be a nanny anymore.

I’ve a few more years and I’m fine with that, I still have miles and miles to go, but sure and steady, slow, one day at a time I am doing the work to get to the place.

And when I get there, well, there will be other places to go.

But.

For right now I am just really happy to be in my last year of the Masters program and to let myself be proud of what I have accomplished.

Showing up every weekend.

Turning in every assignment on time.

Straight A’s.

It’s awful nice to have a 4.0 average in grad school, just let me acknowledge that, I have a 4.0.

That’s something.

I have learned a tremendous amount about myself.

I have made dear friends.

I have a cohort, a group of peers, a community where I wasn’t expecting to have one, I have people who see me and regard me as an equal and who I get great feedback and validation from.

And I’m doing something that I don’t think anyone in my family has done.

I’m getting a Master’s Degree.

I could be wrong about that, I may have a cousin somewhere with one, but I can’t think of any off-hand, I don’t believe most of the people in my family have a college degree, let a lone a Master’s degree.

I feel pretty lucky that I have achieved what I have achieved and that I have put in the work.

Sometimes the sacrifices have seemed really hard, I have been lonely, I have missed experiences, but I also know that I am making myself into a woman with great potential to help and heal and that I will be of service for so many years.

I think I’ll have much more longevity as a therapist than a nanny, I’ll be able to practice as a therapist many, many, many years past the time when I would want to be a nanny anymore.

Hell, I’m pretty done with it as it stands.

Oh, not that I hate my job, I love the family  work for and I am so happy to get to do the work with them.

No, what I meant, is that my body is about done with it, my back is sore from carrying the baby in a carrier, my knees hurt, I have spent so many years being on my feet, from all the years, decades really, working in the service industry–started at 12 ended at 32, so that’s twenty years, and now the past eleven years or so as a nanny.

I could use a sit down job, thank you very much.

I once was having some real problems with my knees and I was young, in my mid twenties, and the doctor told me at that time that I needed to get out of the service industry, that I needed a sit down job, “your knees are that bad,” he told me showing me x-rays and explaining what the problems were.

I didn’t really heed that advice.

And I have managed to get by, sometimes a bit painfully slow, and I have seen things that have slipped past me that I wish I could still do.

No more running.

Not that I was a great runner, but I thought once or twice that I would at least do one marathon in my life

And dancing.

Oh.

Man.

I can tell how bad my knees are when I go out dancing, they are just not what they used to be, not that they used to be great anyway, but fuck.

Anyway.

I will go on standing for a little while yet.

I’m not there yet.

But.

Damn.

I am one more step closer.

I’ll take it.

Yes.

Yes, I will.

One little baby step at a time.

I will get there.

You may be assured.

Running Into Old

Friends.

Is so very nice.

I saw two people tonight that I have not seen in some time and it was really good to catch up.

“It’s been forever!” I exclaimed to one of my friends, who raised an eyebrow.

“It doesn’t feel like that to me, but then again I read your blogs.”

Oh.

I love that.

It just made my night.

Especially when it comes from people who I respect and admire, who I think are smart, it warms the cockles of my heart.

Cockles.

It’s a word.

Look it up.

Granted it meant not getting home until after 10:30 p.m. tonight, but I really needed to catch up with my people and it was super nice and I feel more connected and seen.

Sometimes I just need to claim my seat.

And I did that tonight.

I also got to relax and come down from work, the breaking up the week between gigs is challenging.

Not just from the standpoint of the differing locations and the different times, but also in establishing my boundaries again with the boys.

It’s something that usually happens on Mondays.

But I’m not with them on Mondays anymore, I don’t see them until Tuesday, then I’m at the other gig on Wednesday and that means the last couple of Thursdays have been a much greater challenge than they used to be.

I’m rolling with it, but by the end of the day I have been pretty worn out.

Of course.

I have my second wind, but it’s like after 11 p.m. and I should be winding down.

But.

I’m listening to

Bon Entendeur.

Fuck it’s good.

So good.

It’s a bunch of French actors who open the set of music with a little monologue, then the music.

Ooh la la.

I’ve been quite into it.

It’s electro, chill, deep house, hip-hop, disco, house, techno.

Um.

Yes.

And.

More please.

My darling French friend at school had put together a Spotify play list for me and one day she added this awesome mix by The Kungs, a French dj–Valentin Brunel–Cookin’ on Three Burners, This Girl and I just couldn’t get enough of it.

I ended up saving all their music to Spotify and listening pretty compulsively to their artist page on Spotify.

I was so hooked.

Then when I ran into them for the mess in the park that was Hardly Strictly melt down for me, I mentioned it to her husband.

She had relayed to me that he was the one who needed to be thanked for the Kungs hook up, he had discovered them.

So I did.

And the next thing you know he’s adding Bon Entendeur to my phone and, well, god damn, it is so, so, so good.

I’m a happy clam listening to it, let me tell you.

There is always something new and amazing to listen to.

I can’t keep up with it all and when I get hooked on something I do tend to stay with it for a while.

I mean.

I am not necessarily embarrassed by it, but I did listen to Mike Doughty’s Stellar Motel for a couple of months pretty non-stop every night earlier this summer.

I got to where I could basically sing a long to everything.

I either want something that I can sing along to.

Or I want something I can groove to when I’m writing.

Once in a while.

I need jazz.

On a Sunday.

Chet Baker.

Miles Davis.

Coleman Hawkins.

Or I need some Regina Spektor, a Saturday night spell of girlishness where I will sing and sway alone in my room.

Sometimes I need The Myna Birds and I need to stomp and shout and be mad melancholic.

Or.

I need some Van Morrison.

Which is familiar and wistful.

Or.

A little Shuggie Otis Strawberry Letter Number 24.

Which is got all sorts of undertones to it, some raw and perfumed with the devil of jasmine on a cold night in the Mission with the fog cool on my heart and the breath of autumn rains soon to come.

At times I need the Bach cello sonatas.

I am an emotional eater of music.

Bon Entendeur really has my ticket right now.

It may be that way since I’m going to Paris in May.

It may be that I like fucking good music.

Probably a little of both.

Oh.

And even though it’s late for me, on a school night.

Tomorrow is Friday.

Thank you God for helping me get through the week.

I do have a lot of homework, a lot of papers that need to get written.

But thank God, I finished the reading for one of my classes–which meant being caught up with the back log of reading I had for the class and finishing the reading that is due for next weekend of classes, so that paper will be easy to write and it’s short.

The other I can do in an hour, max two.

The third, yeah, there’s three.

I’m not exactly sure how to approach.

Depending on how early I get up tomorrow and what the weather is going to be like, it’s supposed to rain, I may knock one paper out tomorrow morning before I go into work.

I bet I can get it done.

Then one on Saturday and one on Sunday.

Totally doable.

Even if I don’t feel like doing them.

I will.

Even if I’d rather dance around in my house listening to god damn tasty French music.

I can probably manage to do a little of both.

Fingers crossed.

Hello weekend.

So nice to see you.

Seriously.