faxing the universe.

Greetings from Wednesday in the West!


This is how my week goes now:

Monday: Dick around at home allllllll morning, climb a mountain, convince myself to shower (or not), go to class, come home, drink (a?) beer, read and write for Tuesday, mentally prepare myself for the Clusterfuck (yes, capital C) that is Tuesday, sleep.

Tuesday: Hype myself up with some early morning Bob Seger, class, class again (three hours each...sheesh), record myself interviewing a stranger, stagger home, avoid preparing an actual meal, read, force myself to complete basic hygienic tasks (aka brushing my teeth), sleep.  (I KNOW it doesn't sound that bad. And it really isn't. It just drains me of all my emotional and physical energy. nbd.)

Wednesday: Wake up psyched on life because I made it through Tuesday, class, skip home, dick around, read and write for class, check blogs!, hike, avoid doing dishes, drink beer, watch netflix, sleep.

Thursday: Supervision with my professor (where we go over recorded interviews and I get really sweaty), do a happy dance that I'm done with class for the week. Foolishly glance at my planner. Panic.  Avoid school work. Go exploring with new friendz!

Friday, Saturday, Sunday: ???? School stuff, obvi.

Not a bad schedule. Except that I don't have a job yet. In due time, I keep telling myself.  Anyway. I don't really know this stuff for sure yet, because I'm still figuring it out! However, as I get to know the other people in my program I get more and more excited about what I'm doing. I've always been pretty shy about asking for people's phone numbers and asking girls to hang out with me in general, but it's so easy with these people. So stupidly easy. I'm like, "We should grab a beer after class sometime and talk about.... things!" And they're always like, "TOTALLY,  I LOVE THINGS! LET'S DO IT. " So I'm making friends, which is cool. And I'm making friends in my program which is probably good planning because when we're all overwhelmed in week 12 of the semester, we're probably going to have to talk each other down. Maybe. I'm just saying, I'll probably need that.

I knew going in to grad school that a lot of the bulk of it is the stuff that you do outside of class, not the studying and grades part, because that's not really SO important, but more the practice practice practice, pursuing knowledge, and putting a lot of effort into really grasping the concepts and theories you're supposed to be implementing in the profession of counseling. It's so fucking cool you guys. Like, so fucking cool. I want to shout from the mountain tops how happy I am not to have another power point presentation shoved down my throat by some humorless drone. ALL MY PROFESSORS ALREADY KNOW MY NAME. WHAT? Seriously, they probably know my dog's name too.

Anyway. That's me right now. One of my new friends from school knew I was looking for a cheap printer and bought me one at Goodwill yesterday for $15 and brought it to my home. FREE DELIVERY. I'm serious. Immediate friendship foundation laid, right there. The printer even works. AND has a scanner. And a copier. AND a fax. If I had a phone line, I could fax right now. And if I could fax right now, I would send the Universe a fax that said, "THANK YOU FOR DOING ME A SOLID. and also, I'm hungry, a little help here?"

search and rescue.

Something happened when I moved out here to the wild, wonderful, west- and it was so subtle and jumbled into all these crazy, awesome, changes and adjustments that I feel like I'm just now getting my breath and starting to catch on.

I lost my voice somewhere along the way.

It's not as dramatic as it sounds, not really.  It's just that the things that kept me moving, kept my head above the water line before I moved, they're not such necessary life lines here. Or maybe I'm finding different ones.

The point of the matter is that I've traded writing for this little corner of the internet and reading in the park for long solitary hikes in the mountains, copious amounts of netflix,  and constantly having my personal journal in my purse. Not to mention the course load of the first year Clinical Mental Health Counseling Masters student.

I actually cook meals here,  and carry the trash downstairs and around the building to the dumpster, and make my bed every morning. And these are tiny little details, but when you split a household from two to one, all the tiny stuff adds up. And oh! how I love my little apartment and living by myself and walking everywhere I need to go. I love it here.

But I think maybe I tried to change all the things I didn't love about my self all at once, too fast, and I lost some of the things I did love along the way. I'm allowed to miss my boyfriend even though I'm happy, so happy to be here now. I'm allowed to take time to write here even though I've got school work to juggle. So now I'm going to do a bit of back-tracking- try to find a balance.

Try to find my voice.