Item number 1: This is not me. I never thought I'd see someone with the same name as me.
Item #2: Today I turned in my letter of resignation. I got lots of hugs and exortations to keep in touch. A couple ignored me. I ignored them, too.
Item #3: I'm starting a new job at a not-for-profit community counseling center I've written about before. It is a a colorful place full of colorful characters, downtown, and it's two blocks from a branch of my gym, a couple blocks from one of the main bike paths that goes through town, and near the light rail station. It's very low budget. Frequently there are not enough rooms to counsel a client, so we go for a walk, or get coffee, or sit in the park. You get paid when clients show up, and then you don't get paid a lot, and it is run by Dr. Ken.
Item #4: Introducing: Dr. Ken , my new boss.
Dr. Ken is an enigma. At first glance he is an old hippie, with his white ponytail, but is deceptively sharp given his penchant for pretending to be a doddering old guy. He's the clinical director and a professor at the school where I got my counseling degree. He's worked in mental health for over 30 years, has a PhD in counseling psychology and an MSW, and he knows a lot of stuff and has a lot of great stories. I did my internship at the center he directs.
Dr. Ken has white (formerly red) hair and light blue eyes. He is of Jewish ancestry and yet, somehow, also descended from Baptist Indian missionairies. As a result, he is third generation born and raised on the Laguna Pueblo Indian Reservation, and is a full member of the Laguna tribe and speaks fluent Laguna.
Then there's this: the counseling center is run by a Greek Orthodox church, where Dr. Ken is some sort of priest or something. So, every once in a while he and a bunch of the other guys that work at the center stop by on their way to services, and so they're four guys in a small white car wearing large black pointy hats. It always brings to mind the Elbonians, and yes, I've shared this with Dr. Ken.
Dr. Ken tells great stories. He also enjoys lying about me for some reason I cannot fathom. He'll introduce me to someone who's never met me, with a perfectly straight face, and say something like,
"When I first met Miss Misty she was pole-dancing at a place on Central, and had just been arrested for punching a cop. She's come a long way."
Which leaves it to me to shake my head at the astonished stranger:
"He's lying. I'm from the suburbs. And I've never even been to jail."
So Dr. Ken was on my thesis committee, and after I presented my thesis, he wanted to know when I was coming to work for him. This was perhaps the ninth or tenth time he's asked that. And I always used to laugh and say, "you can't afford me."
but this time, well,
I took a deep breath, and I said, "Wednesday, May 21st,"
and he was delighted. Delighted.
So, welcome to my new life. Teacher Misty: exit, stage left. Enter: Counselor Misty.
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