When did I become so obsessed about time? I used to not give a rip about what time it was. I could go for ages without glancing at a clock or watch. Now, it’s like Father Time himself is running after me with a big stick, bopping me on the head, pointing at his watch and saying “Hey…hurry up, do you know what time it is???”
Why this change? Why do I care if it’s a few minutes, plus or minus, till I get where I am supposed to be. I DO care…I care more than I can begin to explain. I probably care more than is necessary. Actually I tell a lie…I obsess. It must be no later that 10:59 Pee Emm when I get out of my chair from knitting and writing, shut off the lights and TV and head to my bed. If you are a dog….you better have gone out at 10:57 or 58. For awhile there, it got so bad…that one of the dogs would get to his feet at 10:56 and stand and stare at me as if to say “Aren’t we supposed to be closing shop here and heading down the hallway?’ Good grief, I have created a neurotic dog!!!
We live a life of schedules, appointments and time frames. I loved when we lived in the UK and TV programs started/ended at odd times. 8:11 pm-Are You Being Served, 9:08- The Two Ronnies. At 10:43, the station would end its broadcast for the day with God Save the Queen. It was kind of a given that you would rise to your feet as you heard the national tribute to the Queen…guess it served two purposes. Allegiance to the Queen AND you were on your feet and heading to bed or for a cuppa. Seemed like a clever ending to the day. I didn’t give it a thought or obsess about.
I am not sure why the obsession about time. Perhaps I sense it is moving more quickly than I can keep up with. Perhaps I feel like I haven’t accomplished enough in my timeframe. Perhaps I sense the internal clock ticking away….a countdown on my life. There must be something to be said for living on a deserted island…no clocks…no appointments….no need to be anywhere in a timely manner. Of course you might get totally bored BUT, I would love the opportunity to be on one…with my books and my knitting and maybe a wine cooler or two. Sounds like a plan. What time shall we leave?
Why this change? Why do I care if it’s a few minutes, plus or minus, till I get where I am supposed to be. I DO care…I care more than I can begin to explain. I probably care more than is necessary. Actually I tell a lie…I obsess. It must be no later that 10:59 Pee Emm when I get out of my chair from knitting and writing, shut off the lights and TV and head to my bed. If you are a dog….you better have gone out at 10:57 or 58. For awhile there, it got so bad…that one of the dogs would get to his feet at 10:56 and stand and stare at me as if to say “Aren’t we supposed to be closing shop here and heading down the hallway?’ Good grief, I have created a neurotic dog!!!
We live a life of schedules, appointments and time frames. I loved when we lived in the UK and TV programs started/ended at odd times. 8:11 pm-Are You Being Served, 9:08- The Two Ronnies. At 10:43, the station would end its broadcast for the day with God Save the Queen. It was kind of a given that you would rise to your feet as you heard the national tribute to the Queen…guess it served two purposes. Allegiance to the Queen AND you were on your feet and heading to bed or for a cuppa. Seemed like a clever ending to the day. I didn’t give it a thought or obsess about.
I am not sure why the obsession about time. Perhaps I sense it is moving more quickly than I can keep up with. Perhaps I feel like I haven’t accomplished enough in my timeframe. Perhaps I sense the internal clock ticking away….a countdown on my life. There must be something to be said for living on a deserted island…no clocks…no appointments….no need to be anywhere in a timely manner. Of course you might get totally bored BUT, I would love the opportunity to be on one…with my books and my knitting and maybe a wine cooler or two. Sounds like a plan. What time shall we leave?
2 comments:
I can totally relate. Seeing how quickly Al's first year of retirement went whizzing by was a real dope slap for me.
The wee ones in our lives certainly put things into perspective, don't they? Sometimes I just want to put on the brakes!
I hate TV. But I do remember God Save the Queen...
I miss England.
The England I knew any way.
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