All the time in the world
Yesterday morning, we were slow to get out of bed – I think we have the summer slam because we are getting our eight hours, but not eager to wake up. We lay there about how fast time is going, like we wake up and the next thing you know it is time for bed.
It’s not as though a lot doesn’t happen in between – work, meals, walks, exercise, entertainment – [by the way, we just finished Disc 2 in my Janus collection – Andrzej Wajda’s Ashes and Diamonds – fabulous] – but yet all of that seems to whiz by in a blur by the time we get in bed to sleep.
I find myself going to sleep like I’ve been run over by a MACK truck, then I wake up groggy, and next thing you know we are hitting the ground running. I try to carve out a moment for thinking, reading, reflecting, but feel the pull of doing, going, finishing.
Time is running out or time is what it is, whichever it is, I want to harness it, feel it is plentiful, enjoy it.