I wrote down three ideas for this post, then deleted them all. I don’t want to write about how you should have a good relationship with yourself, or tell you that I received a butt load of new clients today, or that I’m impressed with how I navigate other people’s defenses. I hate when I sound too soap boxy, braggy, or know-it-ally for my own good.
That’s something my parents used to say, “You’re too ‘x” for your own good.” I still don’t know what they meant by that.
Instead, I want to cozy up next to the electric fireplace with my new socks, chill music and write. And not just write about something you’d like, but something I’d like.
Like, Dave’s not-so-nonchalant placement of the board game Forbidden Islands and how it reminded me of a dog nosing the ball back, so I’ll throw it. Yes, Dave, I will start playing the game with you.
I had a session today with a client who last week brought in his wife. “Is she always like that?” was her comment to him on the drive home, and he told her more or less yes. Although I was more nervous and wanted the session to go well (I shared this with them from the start), I knew their challenges and wanted to create as open and fun space as possible. Did that involve jumping on the chair like Tom Cruise on Oprah’s couch all those years ago? Perhaps.
Dave and I are contemplating a month-long trip to Georgia to visit family this summer. Nothing’s set in stone, but I’m thinking of doing virtual sessions while there. And most importantly, my plants! Previous overwatering by house watchers makes me uncertain of leaving them, but that means I need to better communicate my plant’s needs. Next month, I plan to put a piece of paper by each plant and track my watering process for the month.
I brought a magic eraser scrubby to remove an enormous scrape from the wall going up the stairs at work. It’s a painful reminder of the day Dave helped me move a heavy loveseat in, and in my bull-headedness pushed hard, and it dropped on and hurt his toe. When I couldn’t find it in my bag, which is where I swear I put it, I was bummed. I’ll try to find it and put elbow grease in tomorrow. How I’ll get to that too-tall spot I haven’t a clue.
I also haven’t a clue how I wrote so much about so little. Oh well. Love, Jaclynn
Going On 40 