Buzzing along at the speed of type

Throughout the day I will feel compelled to look at my watch, the stove clock, the microwave... Nine times out of ten the time appearing will be a multiple. Like 1:11, 5:55, 11:11. I don't know why. I'm not a time oriented person. It just doesn't mean anything to me. It slips away so easily. It comes, robs me of my brain cells, and then leaves again.

This morning I lay in bed just letting my mind wander to all sorts of places, scenarios playing out wildly. I had no reason to get up so I didn't. I wallowed in the vacuum. Time didn't exist. But, of course, it did and I want those moments back but they're gone.

For dh, time is a shackle. He's a slave to the clock. He watches time slip away and, much like nature, abhors a vacuum. As long as he is conscious he feels the need to fill his time productively. However, productivity is a largely personal definition. Reading a book in front of the television is not productive to me. Nor is doing a crossword while drinking a beer outside beside the firepit. Adding a row of tiles to the shower...now, that's productive. Building a structure to house the garbage can and recycling containers...productive. Washing the dishes, laundry...productive but mind numbing.

So, today I am boycotting time and the productive use of it. Let it go, I don't care. I'm going to wallow in my vacuum for a while today. There will be time enough to push the real vacuum tomorrow.