For the last few years, I suppose you could say I have been driven by what I can’t do. Most of these can’t do’s were the result of not having enough time, combined with the presumption that my sacrifices would have a high return rate.
Time has become an unfortunate fixation as a result of trying to wear too many hats at once. Although it is considered a temporal illusion, I am convinced that the 72 hours that make up my weekend are significantly shorter than the 72 hours that make up my workdays.
Whoever said, “Time is not a reality, but a concept or a measure” clearly never worked at a daily newspaper.
Time exists and I have a calendar to prove it.
On an average mid-stress-level day I counted 23 different occasions where the word “time” surfaced into my consciousness. Admittedly, “food” was a close second.
But now with a degree in hand and my old newspaper position filled I will be drunk on time. Once known for my self-control and ability to make rational decisions, my newfound freedom may turn me into a gypsy or a gamer.
People will probably stare and say, “Whoa, she has way too much time on her hands.”
Maybe they will be right.
Who knows? With my newfound freedom, I may have time to find my old life.