Posts Tagged ‘self-supporting’

Hello Old Friend

December 13, 2019

Ah.

Sigh.

Hello my lovely, it’s been a while.

I’m back.

For a little while, a few days here, maybe a couple of weeks, I’m not one hundred percent sure, but I am going to try and post up some blogs and stay a little regular for a little while.

At least until next semester hits.

Then.

Buh bye.

This semester was by far the heaviest work load I have carried in school.

I did a bonkers amount of reading, researching and writing.

All the time.

It just was a constant grind.

And.

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMmmmmmm.

I turned in my final paper today, this very afternoon.

I am done!

I am done!

I am done!

It feels so very nice.

I already know that I have gotten “A’s” in my two other classes, I completed one last week, turning in the final paper a little early so that I could focus on the last final project I had.

Said project cumulated in a 176 page paper.

Yeah.

I said that.

176 pages.

I pretty much put together a god damn book.

But when I think about it, that’s basically what a dissertation is, a book.

This was not my dissertation but it had some thematics that I will pull in for my work.

And I didn’t write the whole thing all in one shot.

It was broken up into four parts over the course of the semester.

I basically wrote four good sized papers and then connected them all together for the final compilation.

I am so grateful it’s done I can’t even believe that I don’t have a book to read tomorrow, a discussion post to write, a paper to write, an article to read, research to do.

All I have to do is supervision and see clients.

All.

heh.

Yeah.

That’s the other thing.

I have been busting my ass building my private practice.

I currently have 24 clients!

I cannot believe that.

It just amazes me.

Yes.

I am still nannying.

Although!

Not for long.

This week I officially dropped another day, so I’m down to working two days a week and neither day is a full day.  Mondays I’ll be working 9a.m. to 4p.m. and Tuesdays 11 a.m. to 4p.m.

And!

I gave my notice.

That’s right.

I gave my mothefucking notice.

I am so over the moon.

It actually eclipses finishing the semester, I am going to stop being a nanny.

After 13 years of nannying I am going to finally hang up my nanny clogs.

They are not the same clogs I started with, but I am ready to toss them.

I had a really good talk with the mom this week and I am giving them a very healthy notice.

I will stay with them through February.

My final day will be Tuesday, February 25th.

I am sticking it out for another couple of months for two reasons–my imminent trip to Paris and my second semester PhD retreat.

I will be missing two weeks of client sessions while I go to Paris and I will miss another week of sessions in January when I am at the retreat.  This means I will lose three weeks of revenue and that’s a lot.

To offset that I am going to stay with the family until the end of February to make sure that I have enough coming in to self-sustain.

Last week I hit my number that I need to be able to just work as a psychotherapist.

It was wonderful to see that number pop up on my Ivy Pay app–I use Ivy Pay to charge clients and it tallies what I make and when my goal number rolled over I was just over the moon.

That’s it.

That’s what I need to make weekly to be able to quit my nanny job.

I can do that!

I can.

If I wasn’t going on vacation I would have quit by the end of the year.

But.

I am going on vacation, and it is needed, I am so ready for a break.  And I don’t want to worry about covering expenses or not enjoying myself.

I want to do some clothes shopping and go to museums and eat nice food and go to the ballet.  I want to go ice skating at the Grand Palais, which has the largest indoor ice rink in the world.  I will probably fall on my ass and get run over by small children, but I don’t care, it looks marvelous and I can’t imagine anything more spectacular than ice skating in a giant palace in Paris.

I mean.

Seriously.

I also am staying at a really nice Air BnB and I dropped some dimes on it, but I know it’s going to be worth it.

So I didn’t want to worry about spending, I will likely get a tattoo while there, I like doing that, a souvenir I carry with me all my days, and if I want to order a second cafe creme or fuck, a third, I will.

I get to enjoy myself and so that means a couple more months of nanny.

So be it.

It’s worth it and there’s a light, oh there’s a bright light at the end of the tunnel.

I am almost there.

I am almost 100% fully self-supporting as a therapist, as an Associate Psychotherapist at that, I actually could afford to quit my nanny job is I was a regular MFT, but having to pay agency fees, supervision fees, administration fees and the 12.75% cut the agency takes, I have to work more.

I don’t mind, I’m just paying my dues and the end is in sight.

It’s a lovely sight too.

I’m remembering my birthday dinner last year, yeah, that’s coming up soon, next Wednesday is my birthday, and how I made the intention that I would be quitting my nanny job and have a full therapy practice.

I cannot believe it actually happened.

But it did.

The week before my birthday I hit my number and I gave notice.

Amazing.

I think my intention for this upcoming year is that I be engaged to be married by my next birthday.

I’m dead serious.

I want to be engaged.

That’s the intention I will set.

Somewhere in Paris, having dinner, rare steak or a tartare, a cafe creme and a cheese plate for dessert.

I will set my intention.

Oh yes I will.

Faith

July 29, 2016

Lit up with flames on top of it.

Like.

A metal light sculpture– “LIVE” and “DREAM” and “MAGIC” that you see on playa.

Or.

LOVE.

Which is my cover photo on my facecrack page.

It’s a lovely sculpture and it’s the intention I set for myself today in yoga.

Day five in a row, bitches.

I mean.

Yeah.

I am sore, but I also can feel the change in my body and I’m not nearly as sore as I would have thought I would have been if you had told me last week I was going to hit five classes in a row.

Making yoga while the sun shines.

Or.

As may be more apropos.

As the fog, er, lurks?

Lingers?

Muddles across the streets in big billowy clouds of fine white mist that feels like soft snow on my face as I scootered down Lincoln tonight.

No wonder my housemate went to Hawaii.

It’s summer in San Francisco.

Ie, freezing.

Especially out here by the ocean, by the beach, where it just whips in off the ocean and slither slides along the streets on soft cat fog feet.

So yeah.

Yoga, as much as I can get in before I head off into the heart of August when all things get weird and wild.

The days are going to be full and hearty and fast and next thing you know I’ll be in school and so it goes, this life, so big, so fast, so full of well, life.

I’m lucky I know it.

And while I can get in the yoga, I’m going to get it.

I’ll have a few weeks with being out of town, one week retreat, two weeks at work in Glen Ellen, half week at Burning Man.

I do hope that in all those places I will take the time to do my own yoga, to keep myself in the flow, so to speak, and not get rusty, now that I can feel myself getting some momentum with my practice.

Especially after the Facetime call I had this afternoon.

So out of the blue.

So unexpected.

So, very, very, very sweet.

It was from a man I had dated briefly before I moved to Paris, I was quite smitten and had things happened sooner, well, who knows, Paris had to be Paris and it was meant to happen the way it did.

We briefly reconnected when I moved back.

But.

Ships in the night.

And I remember the last time I saw him.

I did not leave it so well, I was a little hurt and I think, no, I know, I had an expectation and I could not say what I wanted to save my life and when he leaned in to kiss me goodnight, I just opened the car door and got out.

There was some conversation before that, but not much, I was not the only person getting a ride home and I was being greedy, I wanted him all to myself.

I so often want it all, all or nothing.

And well.

Ha.

I got the nothing.

I went in my house and didn’t call again and didn’t say why I was hurt and just walked away.

Toward what I thought was the real open door.

Or toward whatever I was thinking I was walking toward.

Fact is.

I was not in the place to be in a relationship with anyone.

I was too unsettled in my life, in my home, in my person, I was still grieving my move back from Paris and I was a wounded little cat that needed to hole up and lick her wounds for a while.

Wounds licked.

Healed.

And forgotten.

Mostly forgotten.

A brief wave from the other side of the window at the Starbucks in Noe Valley a year or so ago.

I remember thinking who is that, why does he look familiar and why is he waving at me.

Oh.

Oh!

I watched him walk across the street with another woman and felt a pang and thought of the dinners we’d had, the kiss under the light at Graceland the ride to the airport, it was he that took me to SFO when I flew to Paris.

The last goodbye.

The heartache.

I remember I wrote a blog about it while I was on the plane somewhere over the Atlantic, my heart on fire and my words slipping on the keyboard like tears sliding down my cheeks.

All those things in a flash.

Standing on the corner of Valencia and 24th.

I had pulled out my phone and saw that I had missed a facetime call.

I didn’t recognize the name.

I mean.

I did.

It tugged at me, but I couldn’t place it.

It was also an abbreviated name, first initial and last name smashed together and I just had this moment.

Call it back now.

I did.

And whoa.

Hello.

I was so surprised.

In a very good way.

We caught up and made plans to see each other Tuesday.

I have off Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday next week.

“I’ll be in yoga in the morning, but I’ll be free by noon,” I said.

“What kind of yoga,” he asked.

“Vinyasa,” I replied.

“Me too!” He exclaimed, “before you know it we’ll be doing yoga together.”

You know what?

That sounds pretty freaking fantastic.

I say this after watching a few couples now at the studio over the last few weeks, a boyfriend/girlfriend couple and a few couples that were married and it was really intriguing to see the dynamic and the play of the relationship in the studio, I found myself thinking, wow, I’d love to do yoga with a boyfriend.

Who am I?

Who the fuck am I becoming?!

I don’t know.

But you know what?

I kind of like it.

Ha.

You know what else I like?

Putting on my big girl pants and researching renting a car to go to Burning Man.

Because I am over the anxiety of trying to figure out how to get there and back.

I priced it out and sure, yes, it’s more than I want to spend, can’t I just get in for free, fuck, just fly me out in a private helicopter, but there’s this idea of being radically self-sufficient really running a line in my heart right now, and I thought, fuck, I have gone to the event 9 times now, this is number ten, what would it look like if I just drove up and back on my own?

I wouldn’t be stressed.

I could leave when I wanted to.

I can go when I want to.

I could.

I can.

I will.

I get paid tomorrow and after I pay rent, yes, I think I will be renting a car for the event.

But before all that.

Yes.

Yoga.

Because.

Hashtag.

Yoga.

 

 

Woman Of The World

April 1, 2015

That’s what I’m thinking of re-titling my blog page.

I will probably always be a “girl on the go” in my heart, I feel like a girl most times, sometimes a small girl, sometimes an adolescent, but more and more, I feel like I am a woman.

Only took 42 years to get here.

Maybe it has something to do with not reaching out to men that don’t serve me well any more.

My father

My ex boyfriend.

The old ex boyfriend.

The lover.

The other lover.

The one that could have been a lover, but never was.

The old friend, yeah that one, who was never in my heart an old friend, but a sort of I wish it could be, why isn’t it, maybe it will be someday.

Or perhaps it has something to do with saving my money to buy the thing that I know I am going to be using a lot of very soon–my new MacBookAir.

I am in fact, writing this blog on my old computer and I am wee bit astounded that I am able to, although, it is not the same as it was.  There are glitches.  I for instance, can’t see what I am writing as I am writing.  The program is not translating the way it should.  I actually have to scroll down, after every line.  Good thing I’m aces at typing, but it is disconcerting.

It is almost like using a manual typewriter.  Last night this was not the case, but tonight, so it goes.  At least I am able to use the computer.

I also can’t tell how many words this is.  The word count is disabled.

I know all the kinks will get worked out and I will have a new computer to write with and internet with and do things with and all that stuff.

Wait.

I mean all the things!

Yes, all those things.

Like growing up and paying my health insurance as soon as I get it in the mail.

Oh yeah, I just did that.

And it was that last action that made me think, you know, you’re a grown up.

The little girl, she is still there, the young woman is there too, that angst filled teenager with her desires to dance with somebody who loves me.

Heh.

I guess I just dated myself there a little bit.

All those sad, lonely nights, fantasizing and dreaming and wondering about what life would be when I grew up.

I was not expecting this, but tell you what, this is real good.

March has been full and replete and astounding in its way.

When I think about all the things that have happened and all the good that has come my way, it is no surprise to me that I am a “woman of the world.”

I got into graduate school, having made the decision to become a therapist, sticking with the intuition and the guidance and the suggestions given me, really following through, applying, and getting in.

Then securing my place in the cohort by depositing money to hold my spot and to accept that I was accepted.

What else?

Getting of my duff and buying a ticket to visit my grandmother in Chula Vista.

This feels very grown up, making plans to see family and to stay connected.

What else shows me a woman?

Asking for a job review, getting a great performance review, asking for vacation time when I want it, getting to go to Burning Man.

Oh yeah, that is a womanly thing to do.

The figure-head of Burning Man is a man, we all know that, but when I think of all the women that make that organization go, well, I am proud to be a part, albeit a small part, but a part nonetheless, of the matriarchy.

Then there is the taking care of myself, the food, taking an iron supplement again, getting my knees checked out, having my skin looked at, the hydrocortizone, fyi, is totally working.

And finally, getting off the social media dating kick.

That feels very grown up.

Not succumbing to the cave man interactions of texting and Tindering and checking you out on Hinge and swiping left, right, upside down, inside out, over and under.

Making the decision to allow myself to be pursued and in the meantime, actively pursue my life, regardless of dating or not dating.

I believe that I will always be a free spirit, young at heart, a girl on the go, for certs dude.

However, as I have more than one purse now, helps balance me out after using a messenger bag all week-long, I think it is accurate to say, the lady is all grown up.

Oh, don’t worry, I’m still a pile of glitter and longing.

But I think I may be able to assimilate it into my grown up world.

There’s room for all the facets of me.

I am a brilliant diamond.

With many wonderous sides to me.

The glitter just makes it sparkle all a tiny bit more.

And who doesn’t like a little glitter now and then?


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