Somethings to Do but No Pressure

September is a hard month when you're an out-of-work-teacher. You walk the streets by day and there's no sound, no people, no children. The beaches are empty of college kids gone back to school. The only life you see is women pushing strollers or hauling dogs, retired folk tinkering in their yards. Deadness.

The school year can't get started quick enough for you. Either your worried about not Making Money or you start to crumble from lack of purpose. You wear the same sets of clothes for 3 days at a time. You stop shaving. You notice the stillness of air; a sea captain waiting for the wind to blow.

It would be nice if I could just feel the freedom to do whatever I want. Sleep all day. Catch up on my video game playing. I have my priorities after all. But I still haven't finished all the "have-to's" on my list: get healthcare, apply to all the districts, get transcripts and other paper work necessary for subbing.

By October things will be in full swing, and I'll mostly have a routine down. By November, I'll wonder how or why I ever lived any way different. Let's just hope that by February or March I'm not completely burnt out. That's what usually happens. I'm so dependent on the energy of inspiration to spin my gears, like water through Hydromill, that when it dries up I'm left without momentum.

Maybe I will apply for that coffee shop job. An Extra $8 an hour of taxable income. That's 5.60 an hour or about $100 per week after taxes. And, at least it's Something To Do.

Not that I don't have plenty of Somethings to Do:
1. Write a children's book manuscript.
2. Decorate an Art Car.
3. Apply for Jobs.
4. Study up on Montessori education.

It's all about balance and counterbalance.

Hypthesis: Things won't happen at an accelerated rate without a focused amount of time for those events and actions to flow through. It's like a vaccuum. If you have a vaccuum cleaner and you want to increase the sucking or blowing pressure then you must narrow the opening so that the power is focused through a smaller space.

I've got so much wide open space in my life each day, that barely anything ever happens.

No wind.