Friday chickenBecause it’s Friday AGAIN. And because traditions are important. In which I cover the good stuff and the hard stuff in my week, trying for the non-preachy, non-annoying side of self-reflection.

And you get to join in if you feel like it.

Yes.

One hundred and six. Teen candles.

Also: it’s Friday. And it’s about time because I’m exhausted. Let’s chicken.

The hard stuff

Transitions.

Transitions. You know they’re going to suck so you (for once) build in lots of recovery time.

But you know what? They still suck.

Ugh.

Horrible. Do not like.

A horrible day.

It was a funk. I was in it.

I woke up hating the world and it just went downhill from there.

The number of people who pissed me off this week is extremely high. No, not you. Don’t worry.

People ordering me around.

I really cannot emphasize enough how much I dislike that.

The way I see it, the raison d’être of running your own business is this: random people don’t get to tell you what to do.

When they start doing it, I get irritable.

Foggy and headachey.

Just part of this whole transition thing.

Wanting your routines back and yet not really being capable of being in them.

Timing.

Because it wasn’t insane enough to announce a program (Rally!) a week before it starts, I didn’t bother writing an actual sales page until yesterday.

Which seems to point to me wanting a very intimate Rally, apparently.

That part is fine. The hard part was just watching myself be all tangled up in the shoulds of it all and then having to find my way out of it.

Taught a terrible teleclass. Sorry.

I was supposed to teach this class about systems in my business for my Kitchen Table program.

And had just gotten back from New Mexico and someone had changed the passwords so I couldn’t get into my systems in order to talk about them.

I gave a not good, flaky, ridiculous class and still feel kind of crappy about that.

Luckily I may have accidentally said some wise things, so maybe there was a moment of redemption in there. Still. Yuck.

The good stuff

Realizing that 95% of the stuff I was upset about had nothing to do with me.

It never does. Because it’s basically just other people’s shoes.

But it’s always a relief to remember.

Being home.

Being back in Portland again and rejoicing over little things like the rose garden and walking in the morning and wearing a hoodie and doing yoga in the living room and eating foods from the garden.

And being filled with love and appreciation for Hoppy House and what a wonderful it is to live in.

Also: my exquisitely comfortable bed and the way it says come sleep in me right this second.

I talked to my favorite uncle on Wednesday.

He’s coming to visit soon. Hooray!

Also, talking to him is always the best thing ever. I’m not really used to having someone in my life (other than Selma and my gentleman friend) who can just be happy for me when things are good.

Just happy. Not: happy and expecting things. Not: happy and concerned about what this means and what could go wrong. Not: happy and wondering what will happen next.

It’s so amazing. None of that “yeah that’s great but what about this other thing” stuff. Pure simple joy that something good is happening in my life.

It’s probably kind of screwed up that this strikes me as so COMPLETELY out of the ordinary. But it does. And it feels really good.

Speaking of visiting…

Visits! All over the place!

First I got to spend a long lazy afternoon with Tei (and show off the Playground to her). Then my darling Amna pops into town for brunch.

And my wonderful childhood friend Jon Berman (whose name I still think of as Jonberman one-word) is in town and I haven’t seen him since a mutual friend’s wedding ten years ago, and this is great.

Then there is Rally all week! RALLY! And then my friend Jane comes too. Oh the good. And other good things coming up too!

Like this extremely awesome weekend of Roller Derby.

The Bay Area Derby Girls (BAD Girls) and Gotham are in town, as is our neighbor to the north Rat City (Seattle) for the Hometown Throwdown.

Lots of our girls from the team I sponsor will be skating for Portland’s bad-ass Wheels of Justice and it will be hawt. Trash will be talked. Capes will be worn. Beverages will be consumed.

Of course we’ve beaten Seattle so thoroughly the past three years that you’d think it would hardly even be interesting at this point but I don’t at all mind watching that happen again. Sorry, guys.

Obviously we’ll get completely destroyed by New York (though not as embarrassingly as Seattle will) but I think we can definitely take out the BAD girls and maybe go up in the national rankings.

Note: I will have no voice left by Monday.

And then … Portland Folk Festival, people! This coming week!

I’m still kind of annoyed that among that crazy selection of terrific music at amazing venues there is no shantey singing. What’s up with that, city that has an actual port?

But even though I don’t get to sing songs of the sea, it’s going to be brilliant. If you’re in the area or attending my Rally, get tickets. They’re super affordable.

Stuff I read/thought about/ appreciated this week.

  • Mariko’s noozletter on sunk costs was a terrific follow-up to the class she did for my people. Very useful.
  • Maryann is rocking it again, this time with the question “How am I all wrong?”, part one and part two.
  • Jesse (Persnicket!) wrote this awesome post about the decision to rally called the power of the rally compels you. And I quote: “The Rally Cabal! the One True Order of the Rallions!” See how great?
  • Jolie’s work was featured in Handmade Portland and that was neat. Yay Jolie!
  • Also, Tara the Blonde Chicken is doing a test kitchen thing for her crafty (non-crafty people welcome!) business genius advice. I approve.
  • And: “the most powerful thing you can do with a moustache is grab it and pogo.”

And … playing live at the meme beach house!

Yes, that’s a Stuism too.

My brother and I have this thing where we come up with ridiculous band names and then say in this really pretentious, knowing tone, “Oh, well, you know, it’s just one guy.”

This week?

Death Metal Librarians

I think they used to be known as Death Metal Professors (hit song: I am Irony Man).

But yeah. The Death Metal Librarians.

I’d go see them at the festival … except it’s really just one guy.

That’s it for me …

And yes yes yes, of course you can join in my Friday ritual right here in the comments bit if you feel like it.

Yeah? Anything hard and/or good happen in your week?

And, as always, have a glorrrrrrrrrrrrious day and a restful weekend-ing.

And a happy week to come. Shabbat shalom.

The Fluent Self