The best food to eat when you're going gluten free is

paella.

Anyway, I woke up feeling very depressed. Bad thoughts.

Went to work. Right when I got in, a non-Sarah co-worker chatted with me very briefly, and I felt worth someone's time, and I felt so much better. Going to work just made me feel better, despite not wanting to be there and intricately planning what I was going to do when I was inevitably going to feel overwhelmed and need to take a mental health day. (Chinese food; nap; hike; ten thousand waves. Not a bad day off, eh?)

I've been feeling a lot of stress concerning my job performance, and I decided I would talk to Maria about it. She came up with an interesting idea: she asks that I consult with predecessor Shane Lampman once a week, in kind of an hour-long case management of my case management. I think it's a great idea. We both decided that the two of us should meet more often to discuss my work; that way her opinion gets to me before it begins taking up so much time at the staff meeting, and I get a sufficient amount of feedback to not feel like I'm free-falling in the dark reaches of space all the time.

So I just went to work all day. That's it. I stayed nearly an hour later than I had planned so that I can justify arriving nearly an hour later tomorrow, giving me time to visit the Santa Fe Violin Shop and get those repairs underway. It's cutting it close, but maybe they can get it done before Thursday night, and I can take my fiddle with me to Vegas so I can properly and musically shmooze with all the Leonard Cohen groupies. I'm thinking of actually not taking my accordion. I've been practicing the past few days, but I don't think I'm ready for prime time. I can manage myself on the violin in most situations, and I really love improvising with people playing guitars, etc. I do a good job of it. We'll see.

Also, I think I'm not really going to gamble this weekend. That's what I'm feeling now. We'll see how the shuffling, clinking sound of the chips affects me once I'm back over there. Maybe some finagled free slot play or something.

Hmm. So much to do. I wanted to write some poetry tonight. I still can. But it's pretty much bedtime already. I got home two hours ago. Spent a lot of time doing PRODUCTIVE things on the internet: writing messages to old friends; getting info on the winter solstice shamans' circle I'll be attending; researching more meditation groups; making the decision to keep my soul patch long like it has been or trim it back again (I trimmed it back again). And other things. There is time to fit in some writing, if I want to. After zazen, I think it will be.

Ok, but I've got to attempt some nugget of depth before I log off.

I feel very restrained about projections today. My job is chaotic and full of tons of people, clients and coworkers and donors, and I dislike some and love others and have crushes on several. There are all these opportunities to get caught up. Often I do. Today, I was fine just being where I was and doing where I was, talking to residents, making ... *shudder* ... phone calls (my least favorite part of my job), doing a little paperwork, eating delicious paella and mounds and mounds of mizuna. There were so many opportunities to get hooked and lined on all kinds of things. Not just the crushes, mind you, but real arguments with angry people. My adrenaline got pumping when I was working with this one guy who really did not want to be there, and certainly did not want to be told he needed to get a job if he wanted housing. This guy is full of all kinds of pain, and I know that in the past he has taken it out, physically, on others. And I'm sitting in my roller chair telling him he needs to do the depressing task of finding lame, part-time work because he won't be able to pay his rent if he doesn't have money. And of course he already knows this, and he gets pissed for hearing it from me, as he's heard it from so many other social workers and POs in his past. Eventually I lead the conversation down a different alley, and we come to a good conclusion. But for a few minutes I can feel the rage and frustration in this guy as an actual, physical wave in the room, and I'm totally caught up in it, my heart beating and my spine tingling. I focus on my breath, so things calm down a bit, but the sense that some powerful emotion has taken place still lingers for the rest of the session. Working with people is alive.

It's a pity to say so, but after writing all of that, I have to say: no, the whole issue with the women in my life is much more interesting to me. It's a sad fact, but true, and not to be discarded just because of disapprobation. I am giving too much power to women. Everyone does. It permeates the entire shelter in this strange way - I see it in the way the men act. It's a phenomenon of devaluing men. It's a male self-esteem issue that I think needs to get addressed more broadly in our culture. It would behoove me to come up with a new way of dealing with this issue, especially considering my job. For the time being, I'm stuck in old patterns. But I've got my eye on it. I'm working through these tangles ever so slowly, but working through them, eventually getting to a humane ground. Or, in less idealistic terms and in more personal terms, getting to a point where I am happy with myself.

Good night.