Posts Tagged ‘negotiating’

I Did It!

November 10, 2016

I walked through some fucking fear.

I took some action.

I let go of the results.

I am still a little in fear of what is going to happen.


I know that I will be taken care of.

What the fuck am I talking about?

I asked for more money from my future job.


I took a huge, for me, leap of faith.

I have been sitting, quietly stewing in my own juices with a nagging resentment against myself that I finally addressed last night when I did some inventory at the end of the night and e-mailed my person what was up for me.


I was a little sensitive yesterday.

It was a day full of anxiety and grandiose fear writ large on the face of my fellows and community and for so many people I have love for.

I had a hard time falling asleep.

I prayed a lot.

I let go of what was happening out in the world.

And I focused on what was going on for me, in my life, in the only place where I can change.

I did that writing last night.

I did some more writing this morning.

Then I got on the phone and I sent text messages out to a few friends.


I made the phone calls I needed to make.

I got some awesome feed back and a lot of support.

I saw my part and I decided to walk through the fear.


When I interviewed for this next job I didn’t ask for what I needed.

I blurted out what I make now.

I didn’t pause.

I didn’t respond.

I just reacted.

I then didn’t say anything to anyone because I was ashamed of myself for not being more proactive on my own part.

I have such a hard time asking for what I want.

I have a hard time asking for help.

I have a hard time accepting anything from anyone.


Jesus, really, why would anyone want to give me anything?

But that is old thinking and doesn’t serve, and I am deserving of love and joy and abundance.

I am.

God damn it.

And I deserve to be paid my worth.

“You do what for you family?” I have heard that statement a few times.

“Do they pay you more for that?” Another question I get frequently.


“OH, my God!  You should be getting more than you’re making for that.”


Thank you I know.

And yet.

There it is in the back of my head.

You’re not worthy.

You’re not enough.

Might as well go eat worms.

But I have done enough work, I have enough recovery, and I have so many people who love me and support me and want what’s best for me.


It tends to rub off.

And I have enough recovery to know that when I am shorting myself, I don’t like myself and feelings of martyrdom, self-pity, and victimhood that are being played out.

A scenario that I have often happily walked my way into.

See I used to be comfortable being miserable.

There was such a familiarity about it that I didn’t have any problem with it, was used to it, and kept perpetuating behaviors that would perpetuate the misery.

Then I got sober.

Then I got some recovery.

Then I started to re-wire my brain.

Not without an astounding amount of work, time, and help from others.


And FYI.

I didn’t ask for that much of a pay increase.

I simply asked for a cost of living adjustment.

My rent went up this year as did my health insurance and it’s probably going to go up again when I transfer over to Covered California at the beginning of the year.

But back to the process of getting to the ask.

I owned up to my behavior and I saw that it was not serving my best self, not the self that I purport to love and want to take care of.

This is, just a quick aside, going to be something that I have to address as I move forward with my new career–you can bet your ass I won’t be making nanny wages when I’m a licenced therapist.  I might as well get used to asking for what I deserve now.

The owning up, the self-honesty was the biggest step.

Then telling on myself.

Then reaching out.

So that by the time my person did get back to me I had already made the decision I would be contacting my future employer and letting her know that I had made a mistake.

Before we sign a contract.

Before I am committed to working for them.

Before I start a job resentful that I’m not being compensated my due.

When I told my person what was up, she was like, of course!  You absolutely must, you just let her know that you blurted it out, you’re embarrassed, but you address it, and you do it now without shame.  You get a cost of living raise every year and that’s the end of the discussion.


But not the end of the story.

I still had to come home and do it.

I just did right before I started my blog.

I knew I would not feel good going to bed without taking the action.

I apologized, I owned up to being embarrassed, I stated I needed to adjust my ask to incorporate a cost a living increase that I would have been negotiating with my current employers anyhow.

I asked for $.75 more an hour and additional $25 a month toward my health insurance.

It’s not a lot.

It’s more the principle than anything.

And I’m proud of myself for doing it.


Sure as shit.


Maybe a little.

But I know if this is not the right fit, I will be taken care of regardless.

There are other jobs.

And I really feel like it will work out.

What ever happens.

The results are not up to me.

I am just very happy that I took the actions.

That’s really all I can ever do anyway.

Take action.

Let go of the results.

Grateful for stepping up to the task.

Grateful I know that I am showing myself that I love myself.

Grateful to walk through the fear.

And I know.

That (wo)men of faith have courage.

Today I was courageous.

I bet I wasn’t the only one.

You May Have Noticed

July 19, 2014

There was no blog last night.

This does not necessarily denote a night of getting laid.

More like a day of getting laid out.

I worked a twelve-hour day and did not get home until close to midnight.  I was just tuckered out and had to be up by 6:30 a.m. to do another full day of nanny share today.

Plus, I am helping out tomorrow night as well, with my family in the Castro.

And again next Thursday.

I am not trying to kill myself, I promise.

I am, however, making some hay while the sun shines, even in the fog, it does break through again, here and there.

I was supposed to be getting the good kind of laid tonight and I was about to drink a big old cup of coffee, when intuition nipped at me and said, wait, just wait.

I had a feeling he was going to cancel.

Tonight was not his first choice, the first choice being Sunday, this Sunday, after 11 p.m.



When I am in bed already, getting ready to rest up for the week.

I had shot that idea down and he said he might be able to make it work tonight, but the gig is out-of-town, he won’t be getting back until late and he has a commitment to be up for tomorrow at, yes, 6a.m.


No sex for me tonight.

Truth be told, I am ok with that.

I worked a long week, I am tired, I would need to throw myself into the shower and scrub, shave, primp, and lotion up.

Not that I mind any of these things, but right now, I wouldn’t mind just hanging out chill with my tea and the end of the week thoughts coming and some iced peas on my ankle and a video.

Of course, my choice of video watching of late has been Masters of Sex, so not certain that bodes well for my hormonal drive, which is revved up despite being a bit on the tired side.

All things good for those who wait, however, and he’s going to try to get out of his stuff earlier on Sunday and swing by and possibly next Thursday too.

Right on.

I only have a few more weeks before I head out to Burning Man and want to be as juiced up as possible.


I usually catch some action on playa, I did last year, might have been one of my best date nights out there, top three for sure, after just doing a quick flip through the Rolodex of sexual experiences I have had out there.

I play when I can.

Every year there has been a connection, or, um a few (I will never, ever forget the hashtags that my boss, the father of my charge that year, put on my trailer door.  It was funny and ridiculous, he knew all my paramours that year–three–yeah hush, my friend said, it’s like you suddenly realized you had a body.  In a way, true, I had just finished losing around a hundred pounds over the past year and a half and did feel a new-found sense of myself, or lack there of.), with the exception of the year that I decided I needed to “Call in the One” and didn’t hook up with a soul.

I gave that book away.


And I did find the one.

I am the one.

I just hadn’t a clue before then how really meaningful that relationship with myself really is.

That trope that you are the person you will be in the longest relationship with sort of thing.

Now that I love myself and forgive myself, you know, I am a bit better off asking for what I want.

And also being flexible enough to know that others have their agenda and needs that must be met.

I had a super sweet conclusion to the week with my mom who I will be working with at the event and really expressed how much I want to help and be of service and what could I do to make the experience for her one in which she wouldn’t have to be worried about whether or not I would flake during the event.

We had an amazing conversation and concluded that the raise was fair and that I would also be there for some nights and that I would work some longer days since her job is going to be crazy out there this year.

The event has been given permission by the Bureau of Land Management to open the gates to the event the Sunday before it “starts”.

The event typically starts the Monday prior to Labor Day, when it ends.

In the past the event opened up at midnight on the Sunday/Monday morning of the event.

I remember very well the year that the gates were opened a few hours early.

It was a huge deal.

The Bureau of Land Management asked the event to open the gates early to relieve the congestion of traffic heading in to the playa.

It was opened to the participants at 10 p.m.

Then the next year, a little earlier, the next a tiny bit earlier yet.

Last year the event opened the gates at 6p.m. on Sunday.

This year.

The gates are going to open at 10a.m. Sunday.

This is great for everybody, except the team my mom manages–Placement.

Her team will be going nuts getting it all set up.

I remember very well last year the chaotic radio calls and the many fires being put out, proverbially, all over the playa as the clock ticked its way down to the gates opening.

The work will be much the same for me as last year, but I vouched for the mom that I could handle going longer hours with less break time so that the week prior she could do her gig without having to worry about getting back and breaking me.

It sounds like more work, but it is also less in a sense, less preparing myself, less anxiety about what and when and how I will be working out there.  I am basically going to be a live in nanny (well, my trailer is my own, but there’s is right next to mine) for the duration of the event.

And I am ok with that.

We made our peace and it felt really good to settle into what will happen out there.

And I get great perks, I do.

Access to air conditioning being a huge one, the one, really, that makes the longer days tolerable.  Plus showers, food, transport there and back, a nice trailer to stay in, and my day rate, which though less than I would make nannying here, is not insubstantial.

I will be taken care of and I will do my job well.

I will also be prepared for the longer days, more books, more writing, more editing.

And there will be time, time to go play, to go let the desert seduce me and abandon myself to the spirit as it should so move me to do so.

I will dance.

I will be love.

I will have love.

I will be of service.

I will.

That’s always the best part for me anyhow.

Sharing my experience with others and building more intimate relationships.

And I bet there will be romance, titillation, flirtation, sex, healing, stars, fire, poetry, dance, communion.

There always is.

And I will have more of that before I go as well.

Not a bad way to be heading into my 8th burn.

Not bad at all.

%d bloggers like this: