Time Keeps on Ticking

Life is so busy.

What I would give for a day off, or a relaxing afternoon or even just a few extra deep breaths.

Give me a second, or two. Wow! Who knew breathing could be enjoyed so thoroughly or so deeply?

From my perspective, days just go flying by. Or it is possible that I am flying and the days are just stationary? And does it affect things at all if I ride a stationary bike each Sunday afternoon for 45 minutes although by the 40 minute mark a variety of parts of my body have gone numb. Numbness is not just a state of mind, at least not during those 45 minutes on Sundays.

Life would be so different if I did fly and I almost definitely would get over my fear of heights. People are always telling me "just get over it" and I want to yell back "it's easy for you to say, seeing as you are so tall!" If only getting over things was easy, I would have a lot of free time that I could finally dedicate towards stamp collecting, because, as my grandmother always told me "those stamps aren't going to collect themselves". No one, as far as I'm aware, was ever trying to argue that they were.

The months of the calender are always being flipped. Often by hands and once by a carefully constructed "hand" out of paper clips and popsicle sticks that got rejected by the local newspaper when a photo was submitted. I had always wanted to submit a photo, and then after I had, I felt so empty and wished I could have it back. I wonder if the months are excited when it is their turn? And how they must feel when the "party" is over? We so easily turn the page to the next month and never stop to consider how the old month feels. Well, I do. And my co-workers give me a whole lot more space now.

Winter turns to spring which morphs into summer and then it becomes winter again and sometime after that fall (I may have the order a bit messed up, but that's not important right now). Seasons come and go and come and go - it is almost dizzying! Or, there is at least some chance, that my spinning around while my wife rapidly flashes different coloured lights in my eyes, is making me dizzy. I wish more things morphed before my eyes - it just seems like it would be a good show and we are all craving new and better shows these days what with the almost literal drivel they are attempting to pass for shows.

As the song goes "to every thing there is a season" and I would counter, not every thing. Like probably most things have a season and anyone who claims that they all do, is trying to pull the wool over our eyes just like Paul, that guy up the block whose wool collection is "large" and "mystifying" and "eye-covering". Things do belong in certain seasons and when they aren't placed correctly it is like a fish out of water and not in the fish-having-evolved-past-the-need-for-water-so-watch-out-mammals sort of way. My favourite season shifts from day to day and week to week and month to month making the word "favourite" moronic and totally incorrect, which was my intention all along.

I wish there was an announcement of sorts or a warning that is sort of like an announcement, only slightly more ominous and foreboding, when the last day of summer is here. Maybe I'd value it more and stop acting so blase about it. I am always going on and on about the summer ending and I always have so much attitude about it - I'm like "Oooh! Summer is finally deciding to end! Oooh! I'm soooo scared! Please, pretty please don't end Mr. Summer. Oh, I'm soooo sad. Boo hoo hoo." I see the errors of my ways and I also hear them as I made a series of voice recordings talking all about the various errors that I have made and how my "ways" have been adversely affected. Coincidentaly, I was once voted most likely to adversely affect others in my kindergarten class. You were right afterall, Ms. Brown.

Times passes so quickly, or at least it seems to, that it always seems like it is Wednesday, or Sunday or sometimes Friday. One time I swear there were two consecutive Wednesdays, but on second thought I was most likely wrong. I had a dream once that I was put in charge of everything - a reoccurring nightmare of sorts - and my first order of business was to make an entire week comprised only of Fridays because they are so amazing. But after day 2 I become so depressed and am the target of hate mail (and copious amounts of regular mail too due to a postal error) as Fridays had lost everything that had made them special in the first place and had been reduced to any other "loser" day like Tuesdays. The dream always ends with me eating peanut butter sandwiches on a raft accompanied by a recently fired accountant who may or may not have been born in Russia.

Many mornings I wake up with a start and I find myself sitting up in bed spending far too much time thinking about what day it is and not nearly enough time on more pressing issues like how to get out of bed and where to go once I do this and what would a day be like if I woke up with a stop? 

Mornings often have a feeling of déjà vu accompanied by freshly steeped aromatic tea and flyers demanding that I buy a new table. If I bought a new table each time I was prompted to by these flyers that claim they are my friends, I'd have enough tables to open up my own table store on the side. I always wanted to provide others a vehicle with which to eat upon or under - plus they make great barricades in case you want some alone time and don't feel comfortable using your words.

I really want time to slow down. I'd love for time to quit with the marching already and try a leisurely stroll down on the promenade for a change. "Time stops for no one" is a slogan that I once naively had printed on a 1000 tshirts in hopes that the participants at a forensic scientists conference would purchase them like hot cakes, when in hindsight I should have gone with plan A of just trying to sell them hot cakes as it is a well known fact that after a long evening of DNA work nothing satisfies quite like a plate of hot cakes sans tshirt.

My kids are growing up too quickly, my hair is greying at the temples and a large number of my microorganisms have run out of whatever it is that I was providing them that kept them alive and they have decided to go find a new sugar daddy, literally, as me as a source of seemingly never-ending sugar, was inaccurate on at least two levels.

I'd love to freeze things just as they are right now. Life is pretty great and we are currently experiencing a heat wave, so any spare ice would come in handy. But, you know as well as I, and most likely quite a bit better and more accurately, that time just keeps on ticking as does that timer that says my turn is just about done.