T is for Time

Time for what? Time to what? I have got to stop setting off on these things without a clear idea in mind. It’s a waste of everyone’s time. Not mine obviously, I’ve got to do this anyway and it’s slightly vaguely more efficient for me to embark on something of a random waffle rather than spend simply ages puzzling over what might make an actually halfway good idea.

It’s easy to start believing that you’re running out of time or that you’re not making the most of however much you may well have left. Such thoughts could be the jumping off point for heartfelt conversations about how you want your life to turn out or what goals you’ll set for yourself to achieve. Then, knowing you, you’ll realise that the kettle is freshly boiled and prime for that cup of tea you were so recently fancying or that the brand new episode of The Apprentice is just about to come on and you can’t bear to miss a single second of it. From that moment on the pseudo philosophical thread of your mind tapestry rapidly unravels and becomes next to impossible to pick up again. Even with a crochet hook (yeah, I know I’ve hopelessly mixed up the handicraft metaphors. Let’s not get too bogged down with it, shall we? We just don’t have the time for such frivolity).

So what’t to be done when you finally understand that you’re hurtling through history at breakneck speed, that if you were to blink for slightly too long you’d miss your entire natural lifespan? There’s the sensible advice involving sorting out your priorities, loving your family and friends to the fullest of your shrivelled raisin hearted capabilities and yada yada ya. However, do any of you really and truly have the space available in your busy schedules for that? Of course not. I advocate panic in as loud and spirited a manner as possible.


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