After a terrible day's emergency teaching this week, I had a restless, migraine pained night, my sheets a tangle and my head a mess. I rang early and cancelled the next day, and high tailed it to my mother ocean, where my best mate was waiting for me so we could paddle out into the big blue and wash that shit away. My hand were shaking and I couldn't help but cry to her. I don't think she'd seen me so messy for a while - most discussions about our ups and downs are via Whatsapp, as for the vast majority of the year she lives in another state, and is only here now for her ailing father who has dementia.

'Maybe it's a sign for you to do something you're passionate about', she said, lost for something to say. She didn't really need to say anthing - the 'there there' and the big hug helped. My nervous system was totally wired, in the words of Mark E Smith from the Fall. It's like my body has no way to process a sudden rise in cortisol. Surfing would help, but for now I just needed to express to someone what a mess I was.

Me luxuriating in a bathroom full of money - Midjourney

'The only things I'm passionate about are things no one pays you for,' I laughed. Even in the middle of feeling fucked up I can laugh at the cosmic jokes life throws at you. No one's going to pay me to sit and watch the surf for hours with the sun on my face, or for the random red kelpie to come and sit right up against me for twenty minutes because it probably sensed I needed a dog cuddle. No one was going to pay me to go walking in the forest and pick mushrooms, or garden. 'I don't want to answer to bells, to people, to be there at stupid times and to deal with stupid people's stupid shit' I snuffled and blubbered though tears and giggles, pulling on my wetsuit.

The thing is though, I want to be paid. I need the income so we can keep our heads above water and pay for this trip next year - the luxury of a year without working at all.

And I could work at the local wholefoods but they'd want me to do Saturdays and I'd get paid as much for one day of emergency teaching as I would for three days making coffee and running the till.

My bestie and her husband survive on chicken feed, the sale of his family's home in New Zealand a few years ago. He's 65 and won't work again, and she doesn't plan to. They live on ten acres in a bus attached to the Vipassana meditation centre they run, and the land is bequeathed back to them when they die. They have no overheads and no need of money. So taking money advice or working advice from a woman who doesn't need money at all doesn't work for me.

We paid off our mortgage just before COVID, mainly because we were on two wages and I sold some bitcoin at a profit when it was up (oh those glory days!), and not because we're good at saving money. We're actually terrible at budgeting. Unlike many around us, we don't have an investment property or any investment at all. If we had have done ten years ago, we would have retired with a fat wallet by now, but opportunities pass us by because we're too scared to take risks like that. We've accepted that, and we have accepted we don't need a lot of money, just enough to retire on and have a few extra pennies to travel.

We are reasonably financially secure because we're mortage free, but there's still rates and bills and car taxes. You can't live for pocket change in this world. We're hoping we might sell the house for a decent amount and buy somewhere cheaper - a bit of a land with a tiny home might give us a few hundred thousand leftover, maybe, if we can find it, which seems harder and harder these days.

And so this morning, when I got the call from a school to work, I sighed and went in. At least it was an easier school with well behaved kids. I take deep breaths and think of the ocean, and employ all the stategies I know to prevent my cortisol rising.

Another day, another dollar.

At least the surf today is small and messy - I'm not missing out on that much. The ocean will be there tomorrow.

This is written in response to the Ladies of Hive challenge 131 this week, which asks what we're passionate about and/or our financial stability..

With Love,

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