shake your booty

I declare today Shake Your Booty Day. At some point today do a little booty shaking dance of joy, just because. In case you need some inspiration:

This is the start of week two of only working one day a week. Let me tell you, this is wonderful! (One of the reasons I feel like shaking my booty.) I feel alive again. This may have to do with the increase in sleep and decrease in stress.

Of course, having less work doesn't mean I am sitting around eating bonbons. Having a new house, there are lots of projects to get done. Many of which are creative and fun, others, well, those are tasks but must get done. Maybe if I shake my booty while doing them, they won't seem tedious.

I am loving spending more time with the animals (two rescue rabbits and a rescue dog in case you are keeping score) and taking lots of walks. I am loving having time to make some new and exciting vegetarian meals. I am loving having time to engage in creative endeavors. I am loving fully embodying the joy in my life.

fill your day with

joy

and

booty shaking.

ninja for hire

I sit here with my glasses smudged and bleary-eyed, sipping my morning java. Working my tail off trying to tie up loose ends at the job but knowing there is only so much I can do. After all, I'm only human (despite having a tail to work off). Each morning of the past two weeks my mind immediately starts the preemptive reviews of tasks I will face at work that day. It is really starting to get annoying. The stress of impending deadlines with no flexibility is practically giving me night sweats (eh, not really). Knowing the tasks left, I requested some extra days for me to be diligent with my I dotting and T crossing, but was denied. So, I've broken cardinal union rules and worked extra unpaid hours and even did some work at home. Luckily, this will be over soon as Saturday is my last day.

Saturday will come and go and I will finally be able to sleep easy. "What? How can you sleep easy??? You are going to be under-employed, Dr. Schnookleheimer!" This is how: I put on my accounting green visor and crunched some numbers. I figured out how many clients I would have to see at my private practice to cover office rent, pay for supervision/training and make the same salary a week as my full time gig and realized it is very doable: 8 clients. I recalculated a number of times because I couldn't believe it. Eight. Dang! I can do it in one full day. What??? Yes, you saw that right: one full day (or two half days).

Now let's compare:

F/T job:
1- 35 hour/5 days per week
2- huge commute (gas $$$)
3- earning money for a large agency
4- 80+ person caseload that I have no control over
5- supervisor, program director, compliance manager, utilization review committee, assistant agency director and CEO to answer to
6- minimal room for advancement

Private practice:
1- 12 hour (including supervision/training)/1 or 2 days per week
2- almost half the commute
3- earning money for myself
4- caseload I control
5- I'm my own boss
6- advancement by growing my business as I want

I'm no accountant nor am I a career coach, but I'm thinking this change is a good thing, no? 

And I will have time for my true full time gig: NINJA!!!!!

come here, let me take a nibble

Since the all out attack I received from mutant mosquitoes, I have officially passed the incubation period for any funky mosquito transmitted yuck and not a single symptom has come up. 

Have no fear.

You won't catch anything

if I bite you.

my life is not a timeline

I wasn't going to write this morning but while downing my second cup of coffee something is compelling me to get some of my thoughts out in writing. So here it goes:

The past few months I have been working six-day work weeks. Five days at a full time gig and one day at a private office. The full time place is where I've been for three years. It was always a distance to travel to but once I moved into the house my commute became much too long. Gas prices and all the extra time in the car became too much, so I started looking for another place to hang my hat for eight hours a day. A few resume submissions later, I landed a three-day position working with the geriatric population. Though it was the same commute, it was only three days and I would be traveling towards the lovely East End of Long Island. It is a beautiful commute passing farm stands, vineyards and quaint towns. I figured, what the heck. I would gain experience working with the only population I hadn't focused on so I said yes.

I had submitted my required four weeks notice at my full time job and was thrilled about this new adventure in my career. The first two weeks I had jury duty on top of the full time gig and my private clients.My exhaustion has been evident to everyone around me. Forgetfulness, stress and insomnia have taken over my days. Then, last week a bomb dropped. The job offer had been rescinded by the higher up boss. I was so taken aback I just responded with an "okay, well thank you anyway" and hung up the phone.

My head spinning, I couldn't even think. Later that day, my iced tea cap reminded me "the sun will come out tomorrow"

and I got this photo

which promptly reminded me that there are more important things in my life. Everything will be okay.

I have always believed that I land the jobs I am supposed to have. It took me a few days to find the lesson in this rescinded offer and the loss of ground but last night it hit me. I have learned to let go of the fear. I am surrendering to the unknown and it is okay. There are some options and, ultimately, none of them are wrong. They are just the next choice I make and if that one does not work out, there will be another choice to make later.

The lesson:
My life is not a timeline, it is a river with many twists and turn. There is even and eddy or two every now and then. Sometimes you have to flow with water and see where it takes you, and other times you have to swim like the dickens to get what you want. It is always vital to have a picnic on the bank on a regular basis (ah, self care). Currently, I need to surrender and flow with the water. It just feels right.

Now where are my inner tube and water wings? 

i think i can, i think i can, i...i...think i need some rest

Sorry about the scarceness of posts lately but I've been working my tail off. I only have a week and a half at my full time gig and I am trying to finish up lots of loose ends there...all while building my private practice, preparing to start the new job out east and keeping up with the house. My sleep has been awful and my memory is shot, too.

I'm doing my darnedest to keep my head above water and not let myself get sick. That is what happened at the end of grad school.

Stress, pressure and life plus a cold = a lot more badness.

I've been taking my vitamins and trying to get my veggies in but am doing very little self-care besides that. A true example of what NOT to do at times of stress. If anyone has some extra tips, hints or ideas to help me through the next couple of weeks, I'd love to hear them.

son of a biscuit

There a few things more annoying in the morning than waking up in the middle of a sleep cycle and that is what happened this morning. hrumph! I had ample sleep but I hit the eye-opening point when I had just entered into the "remembering my dream" stage (and it was an interesting dream, too). I sat there in bed feeling like I was just run over by a semi. Kind of a crumby way to start the day, eh?

A couple of cups of joe later, I am starting to feel as human as I possibly can. I predict this is going to one of those want-to-giggle-at-everything days. At least this makes these kind of days amusing. Now, for some reason, I want biscuits.

Happy Friday, critters! I'm off to work.

choke on this

Ever choke on food? I mean seriously choke on food where you needed assistance in order to continue living this human experience? Proof that traumatic events, even not-so-overly-traumatic ones, can stay with us I have a vivid memory of the one day I seriously choked. When I was a kid hanging out at my childhood friend Krista's house (she lived right behind me, so I just had to hop the fence) her mom made some hot dogs for lunch. Lo and behold, I took a bite and it went down the wrong pipe (probably due to being distracted by the deep and intriguing conversation of eight year old girls).. I remember not being able to breathe or cough but remaining strangely calm. Krista's dad acted quickly, moved me to the edge of the deck and performed the Heimlich Maneuver on me dislodging the obstructive meat-like conglomerate from my windpipe. I remember my eyes were teared up but wasn't upset afterwards. Thanks to Mr. M, you are able to read my stupid tales and ranting blogs. And, boy, did that hot dog chunk fly! I couldn't eat hot dogs for a while after that.

Here's some interesting info: 

On this day in 1974, Henry Jay Heimlich published his "Heimlich Maneuver" in the Journal of Emergency Medicine. The article was called "Pop Goes the Café Coronary." Less than three weeks later, the maneuver was used successfully in a restaurant in Bellevue, Washington. As of 2006, the American Red Cross recommends the "five and five" approach: five sharp blows to the back, followed by five abdominal thrusts if the back blows are not effective.
Heimlich's son Peter has dedicated a website to exposing what he calls his father's "50-year history of fraud." He writes: "At age 48, I came to realize that my father was a danger to others and to himself. Since then I've done what I could to bring the facts to public attention in order to expose the 'poison ideas' circulated by my father and his cronies, a motley crew of hacks, quacks, and narco doctors." Among other things, he accuses his father of stealing the "Heimlich maneuver" from a colleague, faking his medical credentials, and deliberately infecting people with malaria to cure them of AIDS, cancer, and Lyme disease.
(The above section from The Writer's Almanac 6.1.2011)

In honor of this day, go choke on something but remember this sign: