Show Up

Be on time.

Do your best.

Done.

Done.

And done.

And you could eat off that floor, it was so clean.

In fact, the youngest boy did.

In no particular order things pulled out of his mouth:

Cat food.

Cat hair.

Carpet lint.

Human hair.

Grass.

Leaves.

Sand.

Random dirt.

Toilet paper.

I swear to god I was thinking I would just sprinkle his food down on the floor, he would eat it better that way.

He has recently developed a severe disdain for being strapped into anything, high chair, stroller, in the jumper, or in a sweatshirt.

If it’s binding, he ain’t  having it.

Which is so sad since he was such a sweet baby all swaddled up just a few weeks ago it seems.

Now he is a rough and tumble boy grabbing, climbing, pulling, trying to run before he can walk.

He may just be the most active baby I have ever had.

I told the mom yesterday to get him in sports right away, this kid has some energy to burn.

My other monkey was a total cuddle pie today and between the two I did not have much down time, but I did get to sneak in a cup of tea and a few minutes of sitting down at on a chair.

That felt good.

It also felt good to walk into work, yes, I was nervous, yes, I thought, especially and I am not certain why, at the end of the day, that  I was going to get fired.

But I did not.

In fact, I got a hug from my boss.

So sweet.

Totally unexpected.

I offered a peace token.

A box of tea and the promise to keep the house clean and the wheels turning smoothly.

As smooth as I can.

Although periodically throughout the day I did think, maybe this is it, maybe this is really the time to sit down, write, find out what I want to do and go for it.

On my way into work today on my bicycle I had random negative thoughts bop through my mind as I was contemplating one such road.

“You are already arguing for your own limitations,” I could hear John Ater suddenly pipe up in my head.

He was right.

I was.

I hate it when he’s right.

And I wasn’t even talking to him.

Jesus.

The man has some sort of staying power in my head.

Thank god, it helps balance out the rest of the random crazy ass thoughts I have flying around in there.

So, what I am hesistant to say, since I have said many times, many ways, all the different ideas I have had for career–elementary school teacher, accountant, makeup artist, massage therapist, veterinarian, pediatrician, ER nurse–and all the careers I have had: nanny–what I have been thinking about.

Screen writing.

Hey, come on.

I live in California.

Hollywood does beckon to me now and again.

Especially the idea of really learning how to write a script, being guided, learning how to craft an image.

“I can see this as a movie,” my classmate said to me after I had read a chapter of my work to the class, “in fact, it screams movie.”

I think I could write some good screen plays.

Yeah, I know, I could self teach, but I am lazy about stuff like that.

I work much better with some direct guidance.

Film school is what I am talking about.

It could very well be me just whistling away in the dark, the tuition for the schools I am interested in are pretty steep, but then I hear John’s voice again, and I think, so what?

So what if it’s expensive.

I am worth the investment.

I mean I just spent a fucking month talking myself through raising my rates to what the market can bear and I know that I am worth it.

I can apply for financial aid.

I can ask for help.

I can also investigate.

I have one school sending me information.

I can look it over.

I can e-mail another and wade through the applications and just apply.

Yeah, I know, I was thinking about pursuing a masters in English Literature or an MFA, just this time last year.

I am always thinking about going back to school but not doing it.

Nothing has ever seem to quite fall into place.

So, I honestly don’t know if this is just me running around in the same circles are if this might be something that I should actually go for.

I suppose there’s no harm in looking into it.

Until that point I seem to be sitting alright with the nanny work.

Full time for the month anyway.

Or close to it.

My Fridays I will only be working three to four hours, so just a half day, which is nice.

Three days of share, then two days of solo care.

At least through the New Year.

And I got my birthday off.

It’s on.

I sent out a little invite to a few folks.

I doubt that half will show.

That’s just how it is for the holiday season.

Plus, I am going to actually have the celebration on the day of my birthday.

Horse back riding in the afternoon at Mar Vista Stables.

Then some hang out at Trouble Coffee and some food at Thai Cottage.

Ending the day at my house with tea and a back yard fire in the fire pit.

Simple, small, relaxed, and easy.

My birthday was like that last year too.

Although it was in Paris.

I am pretty lucky.

Celebrating another year on this planet, getting to do so in San Francisco, the Paris of North America, and having gotten to really grow a lot this year.

Not much has changed and so much has that it rather amazes me.

“I am so glad to hear that you are really getting into living out by Ocean Beach,” a friend said to me tonight over at 7th and Irving as I was getting ready to hop on my bicycle.

“You’re needed here too, you know,” she finished.

Good to know that.

Just going to keep on showing up for it.

On time.

Doing the best job I can in the moment.

That’s really all I can ask of myself.

Or expect from myself.

There is no magic wand.

Just this.

Showing up.