No Time on My Hands

Time, Time, Time

See what's become of me

While I looked around for my possibilities

I was so hard to please....

- from Hazy Shade of Winter by Paul Simon

 

 

I think about Time all the time.

I think about how I never seem to have enough of it. I think about how it's a finite number for all of us. Time. It never stops, never sleeps.

Time has such mystique - it's so elusive: I can never find it. What is this Spare Time I am always hearing about? 

Make these amazing potholders in your spare time!  

Pfff! Spare Time, it is a myth, a fable, I tell you.

Apparently, if you do not have enough time, you must then somehow make Time. I’m always trying to carve out a little piece of it, or make better use of mine. Most importantly, you should never, ever waste it, lest someone yell at you:

We're burnin' daylight!

Don't dillydally!

We're gettin' nowhere fast!

Time's a wastin'!

Now, there's an hour of my life I can never get back!

I’ve heard of people having too much Time on their hands, but I have yet to experience it myself. People who have too much Time on their hands create elaborate models of the Santa Maria, the Nina, and the Pinta out of toothpicks. They manicure their lawns with mustache scissors. They paint graffiti on large expanses of concrete. They gather at a friend’s house, drink a lot of liquor, and leave the empties all over the lawn. They crochet potholders out of multicolor yarn and gift them to family members for Christmas. Too bad there isn’t a Time Bank somewhere that could accept donations. Then people like me would go to the Bank and get some.

Of course, best kind of Time is Free Time. Free Time! When you have Free Time, you can do whatever you want with it! When you have Free Time, you are rich with possibilities. The world is your oyster because you have all this time in which you shall accomplish wonderful, soul-satisfying things.   It is during my Free Time that I can write, or paint, create or…vegetate.

Ah, but this Free Time must be used wisely. You only get so much of it  -- unless you are a gypsy. Gypsies, as we know, frolic and cavort all day and all night with no regrets. But for most of us, Free Time is a coveted, sought after, and closely guarded jewel.  And it’s scarce. It’s in short supply. 

I am horizontal as I write this blog. This is called “dovetailing” -- a skill I first learned about in a High School Home Ec class. I’m combining two tasks in order to make the best use of my Free Time. Even as my mind and my hands are writing, the rest of me is relaxing and vegetating. No small skill.