Stop the clock!

Alice's White RabbitThis morning I realized with a shock that it was once again Omelette Day. Now, don’t get me wrong, I am happy for it to be Omelette Day: I enjoy my omelette and the fact that it signals the approach of the weekend.

What concerns me is that it seems only yesterday that it was Omelette Day, but no, a whole week has gone by since then, leaving me bemused by the vertiginous speed at which the daily round revolves. The hours turn into days, days into weeks, weeks into months, months into years, and years into half a lifetime in the blink of an eye. I sometimes feel like the rider of a bolting horse, clinging desperately to its mane as it rushes me to the brink of the precipice.

When I was employed, it seemed reasonable that I never had the time for anything. I could always blame my job for robbing me of valuable time. Now that I have unilaterally declared myself a tiger of leisure, I have no such excuse. Nearly every time I see a clock or look at my watch, I exclaim “Is that the time?!” and wonder where the morning/afternoon/evening/day has gone.

My in-tray (every self-respecting tiger should have an in-tray) is overflowing with letters, bills, bank statements, clippings, notes-to-self, etc all needing attention. Beside the bed is a heap of books, some with bookmarks poking out, that are gathering dust. I trip over them every time I get in or out of bed but I only rarely get around to reading them.

Where the time goes is a mystery. I sometimes think I must suffer bouts of unconsciousness when I sit or stand about totally oblivious to my surroundings like an unused vacuum cleaner and then suddenly wake up and continue whatever I am doing. Either that on the Chief Editor in the Sky is abridging my life and leaving me with only the highlights.

There are ways to slow the pace of time albeit temporarily. Waiting for a bus in Cornwall is a good one. I used to do paid examination invigilation work and that’s a good way of making three hours seem like a week. But these respites are rare and characterised by boredom, that killer of joy and inspiration.

I obviously need to get organized, to make a list of goals and tasks needing attention and fit them into a timetable. Yes, that should do it. Right, let’s get started. Lumme, is that the time?! I’m late, I’m late. Must go. I’ll do the timetable… later… when I have time…


About SilverTiger

I live in Islington with my partner, "Tigger". I blog about our life and our travels, using my own photos for illustration.
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