My favourite poem is the one that starts ‘Thirty days hath September’ because it actually tells you something.
Where did this month go?
I mean, seriously, didn’t I just get back from the beach? You may recall that I mentioned our beach trip in passing.
I had goals for September. I still have goals for September. Just ask my neighbors who stare out their windows and look at my yard.
True, there’s little I can do about our recent rains.
I haven’t been a slacker in September. In fact, I’ve been quite busy.
I went to my high school reunion. I directed my first, post-college, production. I set up and attended four board meetings for the day job, and in my free time I’ve worked weekends at the amusement park.
But no, the script, and the novel, are not finished.
I’m shifting gears a bit as my recent round of auditions resulted in an 0-4 record.
Dance 10. Looks 3.
Story of my life.
But, that’s okay. These things come in seasons. This is just not my season to be on stage.
I will admit that having a…what was it…eighteen month run of being in rehearsals, performance, or production every day that shifting the focus isn’t exactly easy.
But, I’m doing it.
I don’t necessarily think that I lost September. After all after today there are three more days.
Those days will not see the completion of the script, or the novel. And if the weather report as of the time I’m writing this is to be believed, those days will also not see the redemption of my yard.
Still, I refuse to let it worry me.
Don’t get me wrong, I don’t refuse to let it give me something to write about.
I’m just not going to get bent out of shape over deadlines. Maybe if I was ignoring them, if I wasn’t working toward them that might be a problem.
The point is not to stop.
I will always have deadlines and projects, and for a while anyway, a yard that needs attention.
Even if I don’t get to them until…next September.