I commute.
A. LOT.
I drive an hour each way, and it tends to wear on me come the end of the week. Friday is completely shot since I don't arrive home until well after six, closer to seven. Saturday should be the day of rebalance, but it never seems to be. I'm sitting here and trying to remember what I did yesterday. Honestly. Right now...it escapes me. Today was church and then food prep for the week.
I've found out that the more I plan out during the week, the less stress I tend to accumulate.
Because, dear ones, isn't life stressful enough???
Now I'm sitting here at my desk. It's almost six. And this day is just...gone. Poof. I've done food prep and dishes and treadmill, and I'm flat tired.
I've looked at the day job schedule, and the week stretches out in front of me like that road painting that Wile. E. Coyote splashes on the rock, and the Road Runner zips right through.
Interminable.
I'm entirely convinced that this world is spinning faster. That an hour, twenty years ago, is not the same as an hour now. If time is wibbly-wobbly, then I believe it's wibbled a bit quicker over the years.
Rarely do I have time to simply enjoy. Sit with the sun on my face. Tap out a story with my writing playlist in my ears. Weed the flower gardens and plant some seeds. Sit with my grandson and just enjoy his perspective.
I've come to realize that time is a precious commodity, and I've also come to the point where I don't like to waste mine. If I open a book, and it's complete trash...I'm done. If I start a TV show on Netflix, and it numbs my mind...I'm done.
Time is ephemeral. While some may think that's redundant, I believe it's quite apt.
Sixty seconds can be a lifetime. Sixty years can be gone in the snap of your fingers.
Think I'll work on this a bit. Maybe try to work my way around to not feeling like time is slipping through my fingers.
Work on being in the present.
Love those sixty seconds like the gift they are.
Grins*
A. LOT.
I drive an hour each way, and it tends to wear on me come the end of the week. Friday is completely shot since I don't arrive home until well after six, closer to seven. Saturday should be the day of rebalance, but it never seems to be. I'm sitting here and trying to remember what I did yesterday. Honestly. Right now...it escapes me. Today was church and then food prep for the week.
I've found out that the more I plan out during the week, the less stress I tend to accumulate.
Because, dear ones, isn't life stressful enough???
Now I'm sitting here at my desk. It's almost six. And this day is just...gone. Poof. I've done food prep and dishes and treadmill, and I'm flat tired.
I've looked at the day job schedule, and the week stretches out in front of me like that road painting that Wile. E. Coyote splashes on the rock, and the Road Runner zips right through.
Interminable.
I'm entirely convinced that this world is spinning faster. That an hour, twenty years ago, is not the same as an hour now. If time is wibbly-wobbly, then I believe it's wibbled a bit quicker over the years.
Rarely do I have time to simply enjoy. Sit with the sun on my face. Tap out a story with my writing playlist in my ears. Weed the flower gardens and plant some seeds. Sit with my grandson and just enjoy his perspective.
I've come to realize that time is a precious commodity, and I've also come to the point where I don't like to waste mine. If I open a book, and it's complete trash...I'm done. If I start a TV show on Netflix, and it numbs my mind...I'm done.
Time is ephemeral. While some may think that's redundant, I believe it's quite apt.
Sixty seconds can be a lifetime. Sixty years can be gone in the snap of your fingers.
Think I'll work on this a bit. Maybe try to work my way around to not feeling like time is slipping through my fingers.
Work on being in the present.
Love those sixty seconds like the gift they are.
Grins*
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