It’s been a long – although productive – week. I feel like I finally “get” what I’m doing, at least in relation to my stage in the learning process. My sessions with clients feel rich and productive, and although I still have a lot to learn, I now feel pretty comfortable dealing with uncertainties that arise in session. MSPP’s performance of A Memory, A Monologue, A Rant, and A Prayer, which I am co-running, is coming along. We had our first group rehearsal on Thursday during which each participant performed their monologue, and we all provided feedback and discussed the overall theme of the event. As the event also features a silent auction, I was successful this week in collecting many gift donations from local businesses. Lastly, I had to perform a case presentation at my practicum site, and it went well; my fellow interns and supervisors provided excellent guidance and suggestions regarding my work with the particularly client.
All the same, the week left me cognitively zapped. Given that my fellow girl friends also conveyed this sense of work-induced over-tiredness, we decided that our late-twenty-something-year-old (non-eight-year-old-school-girl…) selves would throw a slumber party. Before you get confused or throw out some “pillow fight”-focused wise crack, hear me out. The “event” was held at my friend Asha’s place in Back Bay. Asha, who works in finance, actually lives in a nice, normal apartment complete with real furniture that she picked out herself. I live in some rundown-ish Allston apartment, one that serves the basic function of “providing shelter,” filled with furniture attained through Craigslist, the same website through which some crimes have been committed; most of my student friends live similarly rugged existences. So, yeah, I love being at Asha’s place; it always feels like being at some museum exhibit regarding “how non-student people with an income live.” My friends Meredith and Jackie showed up as well, and clad in pajamas, we spent the night drinking wine, eating, playing board games, and having spontaneous sing-alongs to Jeff Buckley and Fiona Apple tunes. No one mentioned work. Although it was weird to have a “sleepover” that didn’t involve building a fort, playing truth or dare, or braiding hair, the gathering was an awesome way to end the week as it really served to undo that work-induced stress.
So even though I have transitioned back into normal, non-slumber-party life filled with regular seven-to-11-pm parties and school work to do at coffee shops, I have officially denied and gone against the idea that people over the age of 15 cannot have slumber parties. So now the question is: how long do you have to wait to ask your friends to have another slumber party?