New Homestead
Tomorrow, I hope to make a connection with the property manager of my old apartment building. I officially moved in with my "friend" Tom on February 15th, although I had been "living there" for about one month previous. It has taken me about 30 days to move out. I have moved most of my belongings by packing my car with the help of friends on different days of the week, depending on the mood and the availability of "true friends"--those who are there for me in a time of need and who don't expect anything in return. You know.
After I had cleaned out my kitchen cupboards and boxed everything up, after I had boxed up a bunch of clothing, after my friend Brenda and I had taken a bunch of unwanted clothing to Goodwill, and after I had packed up my toiletries and photographs and books, and after my friends Paula and Brenda, Tom helped me move my dressor and my desk. We returned later when he helped me move my filing cabinet and my desk. He did not like my apartment building or the people he came in contact with who lived there. I tried to ease him into the culture there, but he would have no part of it. It was and ever shall be: not a good place for me to live or to have lived at... no matter how much I try to play up the benefits of living there or how I needed to live there and how the building suited my needs at the time I lived there.
So, I am living with him and everything is going well. I have free laundry in the basement, a full freezer, an oven, free reign of the house, storage in the basement, a garage, my own phone line; I got to paint my room peach; I have my own bathroom and I have my own computer here and my own bedroom. It's great. I cannot complain.
Work had been stressful lately, until I confided in Tom and friends from work about it. After venting and some empathy from a co-worker, further venting and some guidance from another co-worker, further venting and some lengthy coaching from Tom, the collections agent, I have practiced some new techniques with my people just today and already I feel better. I felt more emotionally detached from my clients today as I guided them towards goal setting in an effort to be responsible for their own emotions in the sense that not meeting their personal goals meant that they were not being responsible about keeping their promises to themselves and keeping up their end of the bargain to do right for themselves. It seems like I had been pressuring myself in the sense that I was compensating for their lack of effort by picking up the slack. No more. When I take their lives more seriously than they seem to, it just stresses me out and leaves me frustrated. I am thankful to have been able to communicate this thought to others because not only did I receive word that it is a common feeling, but I received some helpful feedback on a process in order to avoid that feeling by practicing a means of boundary setting and goal setting. yay.
Last night, Tom and I danced in my room like strippers and laughed at my stuffed animals whom I had placed side by side, shoulder to shoulder, hugging one another, on top of my bed. One is kitty and one is nipper. They looked so cute, side by side, with blank stares and immobile bodies. We looked over at them and I laughed hard at how I had placed them so artistically and yet how cheesy and cute they looked.
I went for a walk yesterday too. and I watched a new favorite series of Tom's on DVD... Rescue 911 with Dennis Leary. Sexy and good. It's about Firefighters in NY.
I guess that's about it for now.
I might do some reading now.
LATER skater.
After I had cleaned out my kitchen cupboards and boxed everything up, after I had boxed up a bunch of clothing, after my friend Brenda and I had taken a bunch of unwanted clothing to Goodwill, and after I had packed up my toiletries and photographs and books, and after my friends Paula and Brenda, Tom helped me move my dressor and my desk. We returned later when he helped me move my filing cabinet and my desk. He did not like my apartment building or the people he came in contact with who lived there. I tried to ease him into the culture there, but he would have no part of it. It was and ever shall be: not a good place for me to live or to have lived at... no matter how much I try to play up the benefits of living there or how I needed to live there and how the building suited my needs at the time I lived there.
So, I am living with him and everything is going well. I have free laundry in the basement, a full freezer, an oven, free reign of the house, storage in the basement, a garage, my own phone line; I got to paint my room peach; I have my own bathroom and I have my own computer here and my own bedroom. It's great. I cannot complain.
Work had been stressful lately, until I confided in Tom and friends from work about it. After venting and some empathy from a co-worker, further venting and some guidance from another co-worker, further venting and some lengthy coaching from Tom, the collections agent, I have practiced some new techniques with my people just today and already I feel better. I felt more emotionally detached from my clients today as I guided them towards goal setting in an effort to be responsible for their own emotions in the sense that not meeting their personal goals meant that they were not being responsible about keeping their promises to themselves and keeping up their end of the bargain to do right for themselves. It seems like I had been pressuring myself in the sense that I was compensating for their lack of effort by picking up the slack. No more. When I take their lives more seriously than they seem to, it just stresses me out and leaves me frustrated. I am thankful to have been able to communicate this thought to others because not only did I receive word that it is a common feeling, but I received some helpful feedback on a process in order to avoid that feeling by practicing a means of boundary setting and goal setting. yay.
Last night, Tom and I danced in my room like strippers and laughed at my stuffed animals whom I had placed side by side, shoulder to shoulder, hugging one another, on top of my bed. One is kitty and one is nipper. They looked so cute, side by side, with blank stares and immobile bodies. We looked over at them and I laughed hard at how I had placed them so artistically and yet how cheesy and cute they looked.
I went for a walk yesterday too. and I watched a new favorite series of Tom's on DVD... Rescue 911 with Dennis Leary. Sexy and good. It's about Firefighters in NY.
I guess that's about it for now.
I might do some reading now.
LATER skater.