Well, here we are at the buzzer again, folks, she lines up the shot to shoot and ERRRRR makes it in the nick of time! (Crowd goes absolutely bonkers, takes a bow, people throwing roses… utter madness). *DISCLAIMER: I’m mostly done giving disclaimers because y’all know what I’m about by now and you can keep reading or get off the post (I accidentally mistyped pot and then laughed at how fitting so we’re keeping it).

So, it is just a few hours before April and I’ve got to say… not a fan. I was CONVINCED this month I’d have something prophetic to say and I’ve had this baller idea for a few weeks and every day I get home from working 10-12 hours and straight Scarlett O’Hara dramatically stare at my computer saying, “I’ll think about that tomorrow”. Now let’s back up, Kallie, 10-12 hours a day? Aren’t we being a bit dramatic? You’re so right alter ego Kallie, thanks for keeping me in line. I’ve been at work 10-12 hours a day but only getting paid for 8 (finger guns with a cheesy smile, audience is cued to laugh and it’s only a polite chuckle). Well, that is a fun segue into DUN DUN DUN DUNNN!!! Kallie’s 4 months of HELL coming up called the (Drum Roll) Internship. Now, if you haven’t caught on by now, I’d like you to imagine us in a swanky 70’s game room theme show where the shag carpet is mustard yellow and I’ve got bangs that I don’t regret and the only thing that is flaring up are my jeans. Yeah… that is the vibe of the End of March. The 70 Idles of March… The Ides of Marsha Marsha Marsha… At any rate we have fun.

 All of this babble to subtly cry for help as I enter into my 4^th week of my internship and let me tell you something… being in charge of a human, a fully grown human’s mental health? Come closer, zoom that camera in while I wink. Being in charge is TERRIFYING. People come to me now, and because I’ve got a name badge and they’ve made an appointment to see me, tell me EVERYTHING and believe you me, not even a swanky 70’s theme room while I dance around in circle sunglasses can get rid of the shit that I now know.

I don’t regret what I’ve done… most days. I do like my job and believe it or not the more I settle in, the more I realize that maybe I didn’t make some confoundingly huge mistake picking the helping field, rather I find myself able to keep cool under pressure and panic and for SOME reason people find me professional and soothing. That is only to toot my own horn slightly. In all honesty the reason that I haven’t had the wherewithal to write is the simple lack of time and energy. All my brain Kallie’s are so tired at the end of the day I’m not staring off into space in Kallie World thinking about how if bubble gum were in the center of a pretzel you might be able to fool people into thinking it was cheese for a hilarious prank… Neigh, I’m staring off into space trying to get myself to do even ONE ADL. Anything that is worth doing, is worth doing poorly… that is where we are; treating our mental health professionals like they don’t have mental health to take care of as well.  Audience is cued to laugh again, and this time someone big stands behind them with crossed arms and tension mounts as laughter erupts and women start to clutch their children tighter.

            That got dark.

 All this to say that I haven’t a clue what people could benefit from me this month besides malarky and half brain power. I’m learning slowly day by day that cooler heads prevail and that I am not in fact an imposter, but a professional who has taken a few years to get an education that, while I find it utterly ridiculous, is in fact impressive and worthy of celebration. I am coming to terms with the fact that one day I won’t have to get everything I do signed off on, rather, I’ll be comfortable swimming in the pool of uncertainty and helping others learn to float.  Being a therapist is basically being a camp counselor who is CPR certified and can teach swimming but you’re not exactly sure where their licensing came from nor why there is some crayon smudged on it.

So, here, in the ides of March we say Et Tu Marche? You’re going to be a last min post basically just to post for your own ego/self involvement so that you can prove your promises are good? Well, that and to say that ya girl has made it, and for once in her life… she is semi proud of herself! The only thing I’ll truly say I’m proud of 100% is the half marathon I ran in December. I shocked myself and my own body proving I could and here we are again, overcoming hurdles and obstacles and shocking everyone by being able to do it, or at the very least faking it real well! (Cue jazzy music, dim foreground lights on a host who is now walking out to the audience visibly more relaxed and the credits roll).

            Thanks for still reading, Bapa. And I’ll see you in my cap and gown next month!