Unfortunate Bathroom Location
I am currently sitting at the front desk for my little afternoon receptionist job, which is in very close proximity to the bathrooms and it smells badly. Pooping is such an unfortunate thing that humans have to do. I wonder why God made it so that it smells badly. Couldn't he have made it so that it has no odor at all? Or even maybe a pleasant odor? I also think it's funny that your pee smells after you eat asparagus. And don't beets turn your pee red? I remember once as a small child that we had grown some beets in our garden and ate them for supper. Afterwords, my dad's pee was red, and mom was all worried that he was dying! Okay, that was probably TMI.
This week marks the end of my easy schedule life. I'm actually going to have to get up in the morning. Imagine that. It's actually going to be pretty crazy - I'm going to be working 8-11:30 at Make a Sound Choice, 12:00-5:00pm at FLCS, and Monday and Tuesday evenings doing therapy. Monday nights is also knitting night, so I will be gone from 8:00 am till probably 10:00 or 10:30 pm on Mondays now. That's going to be crazy! And Tuesdays will be only slightly better. But, I'm not complaining, I'm just realizing that this is happening, like, this week. I'm actually kind of excited.
I'm also hoping to be able to drop my private practice. Last week I didn't have any clients, and I was a happy camper. This week I have a lot, and I'm totally dreading it. There's a couple people I don't mind seeing - women who come in just to talk and reflect and ask for suggestions on being healthy. That's easy and fun. But when it's the we're-going-to-get-a-divorce-unless-you-help-us people, I'd rather be doing something else. I was talking to a couple from our small group; he's in medical school, and his current rotation is inpatient peds. He hates it. What he's noticed is that so much of the problem seems to be socioeconomic status. It's the kids who live in dirty houses, whose parents don't know how to take care of them, who smoke even though the children have asthma, or who give the kids pop and chicken McNuggets when they're sick when they should be giving them chicken noodle soup and orange juice...they're the ones who end up in the hospital. Anyway, he's experienced parents who won't bring their children into the hospital for CHEMOTHERAPY, so the hospital has to send the sherriff. I asked him how he deals with it personally. He says he just does what he has to do and sends them on to the next person. He says that he can't care about them or he wouldn't sleep at night.
I see myself in much the same position. There's times when I have dreams about my clients, because their situations concern me so much. I have to stop caring. Isn't that sad? Maybe that's just how it is. It's a job; it's a service. I can't give myself to them. I can't come into their lives and fix them.
My point, however, is to get involved in the speaking arena and be traveling the country talking to teens and teachers and parents about abstinence and relationships and sex. I want that to be my focus. I just don't think I was made to be a therapist.
I was watching the Food Network this morning while I was getting ready, and Bobby Flay was doing his Boy Meets Grill show. He was doing a vegetarian menu. At the beginning of the show, he was shopping at the green market in NYC. Then he went to his rooftop garden and was grilling everything - veggie pizza (he grilled the pizza dough, which I thought looked wonderful), apricots with chocolate and almonds (I've got to remember that one!) and some kind of salad. Anyway, I thought to myself, "What a life!" He gets to cook for a living. He owns 3 restaurants in NYC, he has a couple shows on the Food Network, and he gets to go shopping at the farmer's markets anytime he wants. It just seemed like such a charmed life. I always dreamed I'd have a cool life like that, but then I became a Christian and decided that I needed to serve others rather than myself. I was going to be a professional musician...live in NYC, too...travel the world...have an apartment in Paris...play with NY Phil.... They were pretty grand dreams. Sometimes I look back and wonder...what if? Honestly, I could still do it. I could pull the old French Horn out and oil the valves, and spend the next 6 months practicing and getting the old chops back in shape and audition for something. But the competition is fierce, and it's that competition that makes me crazy - it used to drive me. I loved the competition, because I was always the best, but then, after while, I wasn't the best anymore, and that was hard. I don't know if I gave up, or if I really was interested in something else. Sometimes I wonder how such a dedicated and accomplished young musician could give it all up and become a therapist. I guess by the time I stopped, I wasn't so dedicated anymore. When you're a musician, it's really who you are - it's in your soul and in your whole being. So how was it that I don't do it anymore? It was really fun while I was doing it, though. I traveled, and was really making something for myself in college. I guess if I was dedicated, I wouldn't have quit. However, I don't regret my training as an MFT, that's for sure. I wouldn't be the person I am today with out it. Hmmm....memories.
Life is a crazy thing. There's so many twists and turns, good decisions and bad ones. Detours, road blocks, short cuts and freeways. Do you ever get to a place where you can just coast for a while? I suppose that happens from time to time. It seems that while I was growing up my parents had a pretty easy go of things. Sure, there was never enough money, but they were never worried about changing jobs, or moving, or fulfilling dreams. I wonder what the difference is between me and them? Ah, I take that back. After my dad became a Christian, he wanted to go to Seminary and become a pastor, and my mom and I put the kabosh on it as soon as the words came out of his mouth. I actually feel pretty bad about that, looking back. Maybe they didn't have dreams? That hardly seems possible. Maybe they were just smaller dreams. Who knows. I do know that my mother told me once that I am her purpose in life and her reason for living. That's kind of heavy duty, but I think I understand the essence of what she meant.
Well, that got rather philosophical. It's been a long weekend and a long Monday, that's only half over. I'm thinking of moving to France.
This week marks the end of my easy schedule life. I'm actually going to have to get up in the morning. Imagine that. It's actually going to be pretty crazy - I'm going to be working 8-11:30 at Make a Sound Choice, 12:00-5:00pm at FLCS, and Monday and Tuesday evenings doing therapy. Monday nights is also knitting night, so I will be gone from 8:00 am till probably 10:00 or 10:30 pm on Mondays now. That's going to be crazy! And Tuesdays will be only slightly better. But, I'm not complaining, I'm just realizing that this is happening, like, this week. I'm actually kind of excited.
I'm also hoping to be able to drop my private practice. Last week I didn't have any clients, and I was a happy camper. This week I have a lot, and I'm totally dreading it. There's a couple people I don't mind seeing - women who come in just to talk and reflect and ask for suggestions on being healthy. That's easy and fun. But when it's the we're-going-to-get-a-divorce-unless-you-help-us people, I'd rather be doing something else. I was talking to a couple from our small group; he's in medical school, and his current rotation is inpatient peds. He hates it. What he's noticed is that so much of the problem seems to be socioeconomic status. It's the kids who live in dirty houses, whose parents don't know how to take care of them, who smoke even though the children have asthma, or who give the kids pop and chicken McNuggets when they're sick when they should be giving them chicken noodle soup and orange juice...they're the ones who end up in the hospital. Anyway, he's experienced parents who won't bring their children into the hospital for CHEMOTHERAPY, so the hospital has to send the sherriff. I asked him how he deals with it personally. He says he just does what he has to do and sends them on to the next person. He says that he can't care about them or he wouldn't sleep at night.
I see myself in much the same position. There's times when I have dreams about my clients, because their situations concern me so much. I have to stop caring. Isn't that sad? Maybe that's just how it is. It's a job; it's a service. I can't give myself to them. I can't come into their lives and fix them.
My point, however, is to get involved in the speaking arena and be traveling the country talking to teens and teachers and parents about abstinence and relationships and sex. I want that to be my focus. I just don't think I was made to be a therapist.
I was watching the Food Network this morning while I was getting ready, and Bobby Flay was doing his Boy Meets Grill show. He was doing a vegetarian menu. At the beginning of the show, he was shopping at the green market in NYC. Then he went to his rooftop garden and was grilling everything - veggie pizza (he grilled the pizza dough, which I thought looked wonderful), apricots with chocolate and almonds (I've got to remember that one!) and some kind of salad. Anyway, I thought to myself, "What a life!" He gets to cook for a living. He owns 3 restaurants in NYC, he has a couple shows on the Food Network, and he gets to go shopping at the farmer's markets anytime he wants. It just seemed like such a charmed life. I always dreamed I'd have a cool life like that, but then I became a Christian and decided that I needed to serve others rather than myself. I was going to be a professional musician...live in NYC, too...travel the world...have an apartment in Paris...play with NY Phil.... They were pretty grand dreams. Sometimes I look back and wonder...what if? Honestly, I could still do it. I could pull the old French Horn out and oil the valves, and spend the next 6 months practicing and getting the old chops back in shape and audition for something. But the competition is fierce, and it's that competition that makes me crazy - it used to drive me. I loved the competition, because I was always the best, but then, after while, I wasn't the best anymore, and that was hard. I don't know if I gave up, or if I really was interested in something else. Sometimes I wonder how such a dedicated and accomplished young musician could give it all up and become a therapist. I guess by the time I stopped, I wasn't so dedicated anymore. When you're a musician, it's really who you are - it's in your soul and in your whole being. So how was it that I don't do it anymore? It was really fun while I was doing it, though. I traveled, and was really making something for myself in college. I guess if I was dedicated, I wouldn't have quit. However, I don't regret my training as an MFT, that's for sure. I wouldn't be the person I am today with out it. Hmmm....memories.
Life is a crazy thing. There's so many twists and turns, good decisions and bad ones. Detours, road blocks, short cuts and freeways. Do you ever get to a place where you can just coast for a while? I suppose that happens from time to time. It seems that while I was growing up my parents had a pretty easy go of things. Sure, there was never enough money, but they were never worried about changing jobs, or moving, or fulfilling dreams. I wonder what the difference is between me and them? Ah, I take that back. After my dad became a Christian, he wanted to go to Seminary and become a pastor, and my mom and I put the kabosh on it as soon as the words came out of his mouth. I actually feel pretty bad about that, looking back. Maybe they didn't have dreams? That hardly seems possible. Maybe they were just smaller dreams. Who knows. I do know that my mother told me once that I am her purpose in life and her reason for living. That's kind of heavy duty, but I think I understand the essence of what she meant.
Well, that got rather philosophical. It's been a long weekend and a long Monday, that's only half over. I'm thinking of moving to France.
posted by Heather | 12:58 PM
1 Comments:
France...Sounds like fun
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