I’m a therapist.
It was so clear.
It was so obvious.
It was like getting whacked over the head.
You are a therapist.
I was in it with my client and although it was just a second session I could feel it happening, I could feel the alliance happening and who knows where it will go, but it’s a start.
I have clients.
Two this week.
Three next week.
And so it builds.
I was also a space cadet today.
I left my bag with my nanny shoes at work.
And when I realized I had already been on my way to the internship to see my client and I did not want to risk losing time to turn around and go back.
When I finished with the session I couldn’t remember if I had actually carried out the bag with me, having then left it on the sidewalk outside of my job.
Or.
If I had left it inside the house.
I called and text my boss but got no response.
Then I had a horrible vision of my bag, with my very expensive Dansko walking shoes, on the sidewalk and it getting scooped up by an entrepreneurial type in the neighborhood.
I debated going home, but I needed the piece of mind more than the extra few minutes I would have gotten at home.
So I zipped over to work and sure enough it was at the house, inside, thank God.
I thanked the dad, hopped back on my scooter and zoomed home.
It was a fast ride, the rush traffic having dissipated and in the end I was only home five minutes, maybe seven, past when I had predicted I’d be walking in.
It’s nice to be home.
I love my little studio.
Yes.
I would love to have more space.
I surely would.
However.
In this time in my life I am willing to be in a little space that holds me so well and is pretty and full of color and things to look upon that make me happy.
Speaking of which.
I expect to hear back soon from Cheap Pete’s.
The framing shop I took my two Paris prints to.
One a Marilyn Monroe by Phillip Hausman I got at the Jeu de Paume in Paris and the other a vintage Scandal sheet cover from a vendor at Clingancourt.
I am looking forward to adding them to my collection.
Although, truth be told, I don’t have much wall space left at all.
I have an idea to rearrange a few things and move around a couple of pieces and I think they will fit just fine.
And.
In other news.
I got my financial aid disbursement.
Hurrah!
So very happy.
I put half of it in savings immediately.
I will be using that money for my therapy costs as I move through my school program.
I will also be purchasing some new clothes for the doing of therapy.
I have a small wardrobe, but I realized that I need to expand a little, a few more pieces of professional clothing that I can interchange with my current wardrobe.
I was talking to my therapist this morning.
Yes.
The therapist has a therapist.
Duh.
Anyway.
Just that it’s nice having a change-up in my wardrobe and it helps me to be in the mindset.
Which is how I forgot my nanny shoes at work.
I took them off to put on my “therapist” shoes.
My new Fluevogs.
They are funky, but not too crazy and I do feel like someone else when I wear them.
It feels important to switch gears from nanny to therapist.
Even if the client would probably be completely happy with whatever I am wearing, well, perhaps, but really, it feels right for me.
It’s like pushing a reset button.
I carry myself different and I put on a different hat.
Or pair of shoes.
If the shoe fits.
Fucking wear that shit.
And I have totally lost my train of thought.
I am tired and just did a Facetime chat with a friend who’s been trying to catch up with me for a couple of weeks.
I am just starting to take clients, I can’t imagine how things are going to look when I’m back in school.
I probably won’t know what hit me.
But.
My god.
I am so grateful that I have started my internship now.
If I had to handle the training and the clients and the newness of it and juggle a full load of fall semester.
Um.
No.
Super grateful to have this time to get adjusted.
I also know that I won’t have to work as many hours.
Right now I’m working 40-41 hours a week as a nanny.
When school is in I’ll go back down to 35 and that will help.
Shit.
That’s five clients right there.
Add the three I have now and I could reasonably be doing the same amount of work that I am carrying now.
Of course.
It will be different.
I will also have to carry a full-time grad school load.
With all the reading and writing that entails.
Shh.
I tell myself.
Hush for now.
Don’t spoil the moment.
I had a good day.
I was a good nanny.
My charges loved on me, I got to hold the baby for a few hours while it slept, I made a dinner that the entire family raved about (pancetta spaghetti carbonara with julienned sugar snap peas, pan sautéed asparagus with shaved Parmigiano Reggiano, hearts of romaine salad with heirloom tomatoes, avocado, a soft-boiled wild hen egg and sprouted sunflower seeds), “Carmen, you are a REALLY good cook,” said the seven year old.
Thanks sugar.
I do love cooking for those I care about.
And.
I was a therapist.
A damned good one at that.
I think I have earned my cup of tea.
With that.
I call it a night.
Sleep well my friends.
Sleep well.
