Bit by bit the life is being sucked out of my spirit. Nary a job, part time, seasonal or other on the horizon. The economy downsized the north New England business community and it continues.
And, all I want is to write. Prepare the lengthy, complex CELTA application for acceptance to the Hanoi language training center. And, most emphatically, save a few dollars to cover my minimized expenses on the ground here in Maine. Add meager (yet needed) funds for my coming out of the 50s celebration. The one that will mark the beginning of the next leg of my hopalong journey.
So today I spent writing cover letters for employers in those industries I swore up and down to never return. No need to mention. Just imagine the feeling of saying NO. Then sucking it up in order to maybe, if I am not too old or over qualified or not lacking in experience, accept a position that will entrap my spirit. Egads.
Sign me up for an attitude adjustment. Or, a long walk along the sandy Gooches Beach a few short miles from here. Probably one with my darling Bailey in the 'hood. The one on the shore without. So I can really relax. Commune with my daddy. Try to get a message from the other side ... or the inner me.
But grey sodden clouds trickle cold wet drops on my dampened spirits. But only for a few more days. Then I can burst forth into the chartreuse leafed trees sprouting new and the warmer yellow sunshine.
In the meantime, I vow to peruse every posting on that god awful Craig's List. I might even plan a fake vacation to Buenos Aires where castanets click and lacy mantillas flow around sultry dancers gracefully, angrily dueling in erotic danceplay on the crowded floors in a zillion barrooms across the Paris of South America.
I raise a glass of ruby Malbec and toast my dreams ... glistening with rain drops and tears.