Posts Tagged ‘T.S. Eliot’

Procrastination Is Not An Option

July 7, 2015

I can only sit for so long on amazon.com trying to figure out what bicycle lights I should buy for Burning Man before I get disgusted with myself and have to start writing.

I opened my blog page up and drank an entire cup of tea trying to figure out what I was going to write about.

Some days are like that.

I just have to show up to the page and I know something will come out.

I was thinking about my spending plan and realized now there’s a scintillating topic, I am sure everyone is going to be dying to read about that.

However.

That’s what was up for me today.

Doing my numbers for June, which I should have done sooner, but as I was out-of-town on the great Atlanta, Georgia adventure, it never came to pass.

So in between rescuing the small monkey of a boy from the top bunk bed where he got stuck at quiet time and running up and down the stairs at work after he hollered, “I want milky!” and knocked over a table in his room, I did my numbers for June.

And felt much better for it.

I did damn good.

I was within $30 of what I had projected I was going to spend.

I did spend over the amount that I had put into my plan, but I also had an unexpected expense when I had to upgrade the security on my computer, but that was offset by a small bonus my employers gave me when I won one of the scholarships to graduate school.

Graduate school.

That was what got me going.

I realized as I was adding up my numbers and laying out my spending plan for July that I would have to have a school supplies category in my new plan.

That and I am going to get to take my student loan payment off the plan for the next three years.

I have to contact my student loan company and let them know to stop pulling from my bank account on the 28th of the month since in about a month I will be in graduate school.

Despite it feeling like I’m going to be in graduate school, like, oh, by next weekend.

I read over the syllabus and I have some reading to do.

A lot of reading to do.

A lot.

All to be read before I go on the week-long retreat up in Petaluma.

I was messaging a friend of mine in Wisconsin and he made some great suggestions about how to approach the reading and it became very clear that one of the things that I need to do in the next couple of weeks, if not sooner, like this week, is contact my advisor.

I need to sit down with my advisor and well, get some advice.

I need to know where to buy all my books, how to gather all the articles, where to go, what to look for, and yes, most importantly, how to pay for it.

I haven’t received my awards letter yet, so I am uncertain when I will receive the money for school or how that will look.

I know that one of the scholarships will be applied directly to tuition, I don’t have to think about it, it will pay my tuition and then, done.

The other, the Diversity in Leadership scholarship, the $10,000 per year award, how is that dispersed?

When will I get it?

Will I get it in time to purchase my books and get the reading on?

Or.

And this was my assumption as I sat at the dining table at work while the boys were in quiet time and I was crunching numbers, will I need to put a category in this month to pay for my books and course work so that I can get on it, the reading and prep for the class.

My friend said, a month?

That’s plenty of time.

Read everything twice.

And that was actually what I had thought as well, the e-mail outlining the retreat and the information therein made it quiet clear that the material was not only to be read, but comprehended.

Comprehension, for me at least, takes more than one read.

I often glean things after I have read them more than once, most likely twice, and sometimes I have to read things three times.

I get it.

The information is absorbed and I am a quick read, but I have to acknowledge, to myself, that the way I read is for pleasure and this is not going to be exactly pleasure reading.

It’s school work and I am certain there will be moments when I am intrigued and enthralled with the work and there will also be moments when I am not interested in what I am reading or it is a challenging concept and I will have to be studious, I will have to read the material regardless of how I feel about it.

It’s all a process and I am grateful that I am going through it.

Even though, yes, I am scared.

I am scared to fuck up the gift of the financial aid being awarded me.

I am afraid to be stupid.

I am afraid I won’t get it.

And those are just baseless, groundless fears.

I am more afraid that I will lose time with people who I am just getting to spend time with and I want to have this next month to play as much as possible.

I realized today in doing the spending plan that I was more upset about having to budget the money towards school materials because I was going to have to start the work before I was actually in class.

I want every drop of my summer before I go to work.

And.

Well.

I don’t always get what I want.

Though, yes, I do always get what I need.

And there will be time.

There will be time, there will be time

To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;

There will be time to murder and create

There will be time for play.

There will be time for love.

There will be time for travel.

And time for all the works and days of hands

That lift and drop a question on your plate;

Time for you and time for me

Yes.

There will be time.

For you and me.

I promise.

Just About Ready To Dance

November 8, 2014

In fact, if it weren’t for the lack of willing friends, I would be out tonight shaking it.

I am feeling ready, after last Friday’s brief bit of dancing, to get out there again.

My ankle is ready to do the deal and I need to get out there and shake my crazy out.

I have a busy day tomorrow, so doubtful that it will happen this weekend, but soon, I feel soon.

I’ve got meet ups at noon and at 7p.m. tomorrow for an hour each one for some reading and some perspective change, and yeah, oh yeah, a whole lot of perspective change.

Then a dinner with a former family I used to nanny for, I am super excited to see the little girl, it’s been a few months and I miss her little self.

Plus, the mom and I have some chatting to do, she’s agreed to write my letter of recommendation for graduate school and I am excited to be getting further into that whole thing.

And I have some art to wrangle back to my house.

A beautiful print of Baker’s Beach with the Golden Gate Bridge in the back ground and a woman in a bathing suit in the foreground.  The woman reminds me of myself, but I also love the richness of the print, the colors, the beach and the bridge.

Plus it’s done by one of my favorite artists, and people, Arin Fishkin, I can finally have a signed Fishkin hanging in my inlaw.

This is exciting.

I was heading into the Mission last weekend on Saturday to finally get the print from her studio when I touched base with my friend who recently returned from his Sabbatical to New York.

We had a confab and it was agreed that he would pick me up from Noe Valley in the evening and head back to my place for tea on his motorcycle.

Which immediately negated bringing home my print.

So, it’s in a bag in the Mission, in a garage and I want it.

Damn it.

I’m thinking I will ride my scooter over to the NOPA to see my former family and their sweet petunia pie girl, then zoom over to the Mission and see if I can wrangle it to my scooter then on up to Noe Valley for my 7 p.m. meet up at the Starbux.

The print is 11×7 but the frame is a little larger.  I think I can manage it, and if not, then I am going to take MUNI on Sunday, though I loathe it, I do, and get the print.

I have contemplated rigging it up to my messenger bag, but I don’t want to risk it, and since I have been holding a spot for the print for almost a year now on my wall, I’m willing to take a little time and care to get it home.

Other than that, no weekend plans.

I will probably look over the admissions requirements for the graduate program more, I mean, to first be able to talk intelligently about what I am looking for in regards to the letter of recommendation as well as get myself moving into the next phase of development with the process.

I have a paper to write.

I can tell you it’s been some time since I have written an academic paper and I am not even sure where to start as I have not written in that vein in sometime.

I also have to write a statement of purpose as well as an introduction letter.

Those two I am fairly certain I can sit down and kick out in a few hours.

This is the time to start all that up, a week from tomorrow the admissions open for next fall.

I know that it’s early for me to have an application ready for it, but well, I like being ready on the early side of town.

I like paying my rent early.

I like paying off my debts.

I like having my ducks in a row.

I suppose there’s some question about safety and control of my environment, if I get it just so than everything will be alright and I can breathe and be safe.

The thing is with this application and this segue into a Masters program, I feel like I actually have a really good shot at getting in, it makes me nervous, it makes it feel quite real, this is the path I am supposed to be going down.

I was speaking with my mom recently and she asked if I was still intending to pursue a PhD, which I am not, and I explained what the process was for my coming to consider this specific program and what my goals were.

Goals that are much smaller and less grandiose than my awkward strivings for money, power, prestige, recognition, fame, through my writing.

And my mom didn’t disagree with me, but she also said that I would still get published and there was still time (There will be time, there will be time) for my art and writing.

I don’t know anymore.

I suppose I have surrendered to this process of writing and I know that I will keep on keeping on writing my blog, but other things, other projects I just don’t know, I get befuddled by it all, self-publishing, editing, writing fiction, not writing fiction, the memoir, all of it.

I get fucking overwhelmed and then why, yes, it would seem prudent to have a career that is not contingent on making it as a writer.

The writing is happening, the writer is writing, I just get to humbly be an artist for a much smaller audience (yet larger than any I would have thought to have had), a much more intimate audience, than I had thought I wanted or needed.

Anyway.

That’s my weekend thoughts, plans, designs, I don’t have a date.

Unless it’s with destiny.

And I know better than to expect anything to happen.

But I am going to show up for whatever does.

I will have friends, dinner, fellowship, love, art.

It’s not a bad plan.

Just a humble one.

 


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