Time Crime


As a person, I am greedy. I want everything to happen and nothing to happen without me.  Honestly, this problem would be solved if there wasn’t a finite amount of time I had during the day.  Of course, I am constrained by the reality in which I live. I think about this often, how long do I have to do what I want with my life? I feel the ticking of the clock.


24 hours in a day, which seems like a lot but I immediately have to sleep so subtract 6 to 8 hours every day where I can’t be productive on anything other than sleeping.  Well, I have to get ready and if I want to exercise that’s another hour out. So I’m now at 15 to 17 hours left in the day. Not doing so bad.  I’ll probably devote at least another for all my meals, and about 8-9 hours for work.  So about 5 to 7 hours left, averaging about 360 minutes.


That’s not enough time for everything, though,  reading, writing, hanging with friends, learning something new.  How can I fill it all up, to the point where I don’t feel like I am behind.  The stack of promises my mind makes me make increases as the time I have to do it all stays the same. How am I suppose to keep enough energy to make sure I don’t waste that time allotted?


It becomes a race for minutes for what is worthwhile, and again, I am greedy. I want to do everything, and yet I don’t have enough time.  I am not even allowed to choose what times work is going to happen; I don’t have that luxury.  My minutes might be split, taking me home, getting oriented, all I see are these things taking away time, having it slip through my hands.  I can’t help it, what am I to do, what does it take to become determined when I need to.  What determines if an activity is worthwhile or not. Should I read or go out with my friends, should I write or go running. These choices plague me; I don’t want to have to make those decisions, I don’t want to have to weigh those costs and benefits.


When I finally find enough events to fill up that time, I finally feel full, complete, there is always more, though, more that I will want.  I can’t steal time, I wish I could, make minutes last for hours, hours last for days.  Pack it all in so I can experience everything I want, everything that I crave.


I realize how fragile these schedules are, how much I rely on work and sleep to drive the day.  A simple shift in one direction or another closes doors I had spent so much time opening up for myself. Takes away these activities that I have enjoyed so much.  I have no control over time, and a little bit of control over what time I have.


I’ve woken up to this, staring at the ceiling pondering how much time I can stay laying under the warm blanket before I have to get up to make the most of the day.  How many minutes are these times of peace worth, how much the dreams I have at night worth? Each moment more priceless than the last, the time I have to do things feels like it’s slowly ticking down on me. How long will this period of my life last, when will move onto the next thing, how much time will I get to enjoy the subtle nuances of life before I have to leave them behind, without so much as a goodbye?


This is another thing I have no answer. I try to steal away the seconds from the clock, hoard them like a pile of gold, but I can’t keep hold of them. I try to find little forgotten moments of the day to pack in all the extra things. Multitasking lets me complete a bit more, but the product is hardly up to snuff.   All I have is now but is that enough to sustain me, when will it become my time, when will I have my moments, part of me is scared that they might already be gone.


Times up.

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