Where does the time go?

Is it already January 2008? By my calculations, it should still be summer of last year. The holidays and the months leading up to them passed in a blur. But nobody asked me, and alas it really is January.

It’s a funny (not really!) thing—the busier you get, the faster time passes. When I was a child time seemed to crawl. I remember waiting and waiting and waiting to turn six, which I thought was the magical age when I’d know more and be so much more knowledgeable and skilled than I was as a mere five-year-old. Of course I soon learned that six was nothing special. When you turned ten, then you knew it all. At ten, the magical age became thirteen. And so on. But that’s a discussion for another time.

There’s that word again: time. Supposedly time is infinite. When we’re all dead and gone time will continue to march on. (This is a good place to mention global warming and how our days may not march by, after-all, at least not as we know them now. But I’ll leave that lecture to someone else.) Here’s the question that plagues me: if time is infinite, why aren’t there enough hours in the day to get everything done? Why is it then when I finally have an hour to spare, it passes in a blink?

Stuff fills in the time. It always has and always will. For me, the only way to make sure I get things done is to make that list Trish mentioned back in December. And I do, almost every night before bed. If not then, first thing in the morning. Somehow, when it’s written down and I can see it, it gets done. Amazingly, I often have time to do even more than I planned.

Whether you use lists or not, I’m curious. How do you accomplish it all in twenty-four hours? How do you make the best use of your time?

Until later,
Ann
www.annroth.net
The Pilot’s Wife, March 2008