a rambling on the maleability of time
If you don't do odd, skip this one right now.
It's been a holiday Monday, and I am now totally and completely messed up. Tomorrow, although Tuesday, will feel like a Monday and the rest of the week will continue to be one day off. However, knowing that this is a short work week will, in fact, make the week seem longer.
Never mind that it's already August 2004. We're well past half the year already and it barely feels out of Christmas. (I'm ignoring the fact that I believed it was 2005 one night last week - I was blog-hopping and thought how awful it was that someone hadn't updated their blog since July 2004.) Summer's almost over, it'll be Christmas again soon, and I won't have made it out of 2003.
This weekend has been unseemingly long. But that's good. I think it's because I actually got out and accomplished a few things. I am of the belief that the standard issue Monday to Friday 9-5 job shortens lives, in perception if not in reality. It's the days that I actively partake in several different activities that I remember more vividly, with more impact and that provide me with a greater sense of being.
It's true. Years seem to have flown by this last little while and, since I have no proof of any Star Trek-esque anomolies in the space-time continuum, I stand by my current theory.
Think about it. When you were in elementary school, September through December was an awfully long time and an entire school year seemed like an eternity. Summer break was the best, most wonderful length of holidays and even Christmas and Easter break were deliciously indulgent. Here's the punch: at any of those times, you were doing at least 12 different things each day. If it wasn't several completely different classes, including gym, music, math and science, it was going swimming, biking to the store, searching for treasure in the backyard, reading and then walking the dog. Even dinner was an event unto itself. A child's single afternoon schedule could be a challenge for the most accomodating Palm Pilot.
Now, however, I compartmentalize my life by days and sometimes by whole weeks. Work accounts for almost half of my waking day on 5/7 days per week. Everything else that happens is simply tacked on around that - not as an event, but more like an addendum. After work, I have a doctor's appointment. I have to phone the bank before work. I will get groceries on my lunch break.
I suppose this gets back to my reference in "sweaty eyelids" to all the things I haven't found the time to do. It's going to take more that a swift kick in the ass to get me going. I need a re-alignment. My brain's gone out of phase with the rest of the world - into a parallel universe, perhaps. I've got no hope of James T. Kirk or Jean Luc coming in with a last minute "beam me up" to reset my perspective, so I think that leaves only me to issue the order: Make It So.
It's been a holiday Monday, and I am now totally and completely messed up. Tomorrow, although Tuesday, will feel like a Monday and the rest of the week will continue to be one day off. However, knowing that this is a short work week will, in fact, make the week seem longer.
Never mind that it's already August 2004. We're well past half the year already and it barely feels out of Christmas. (I'm ignoring the fact that I believed it was 2005 one night last week - I was blog-hopping and thought how awful it was that someone hadn't updated their blog since July 2004.) Summer's almost over, it'll be Christmas again soon, and I won't have made it out of 2003.
This weekend has been unseemingly long. But that's good. I think it's because I actually got out and accomplished a few things. I am of the belief that the standard issue Monday to Friday 9-5 job shortens lives, in perception if not in reality. It's the days that I actively partake in several different activities that I remember more vividly, with more impact and that provide me with a greater sense of being.
It's true. Years seem to have flown by this last little while and, since I have no proof of any Star Trek-esque anomolies in the space-time continuum, I stand by my current theory.
Think about it. When you were in elementary school, September through December was an awfully long time and an entire school year seemed like an eternity. Summer break was the best, most wonderful length of holidays and even Christmas and Easter break were deliciously indulgent. Here's the punch: at any of those times, you were doing at least 12 different things each day. If it wasn't several completely different classes, including gym, music, math and science, it was going swimming, biking to the store, searching for treasure in the backyard, reading and then walking the dog. Even dinner was an event unto itself. A child's single afternoon schedule could be a challenge for the most accomodating Palm Pilot.
Now, however, I compartmentalize my life by days and sometimes by whole weeks. Work accounts for almost half of my waking day on 5/7 days per week. Everything else that happens is simply tacked on around that - not as an event, but more like an addendum. After work, I have a doctor's appointment. I have to phone the bank before work. I will get groceries on my lunch break.
I suppose this gets back to my reference in "sweaty eyelids" to all the things I haven't found the time to do. It's going to take more that a swift kick in the ass to get me going. I need a re-alignment. My brain's gone out of phase with the rest of the world - into a parallel universe, perhaps. I've got no hope of James T. Kirk or Jean Luc coming in with a last minute "beam me up" to reset my perspective, so I think that leaves only me to issue the order: Make It So.
posted by Jenn at
9:04 p.m.
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