Why Is Timing Such A Bitch?

You've heard it a million times: "It's all about timing." And, this very week -- this terrible first week back to work after you've probably been off of work for at least a week celebrating holidays and gaining weight in your sleep -- I've finally come to the realization that it's true. It is all about timing, and it sucks a lot. I'm not talking about romantic timing -- let me be clear about that now that I've lured you into the second paragraph of this complete and total rant. I'm talking about time in general -- literal time. The clock. Your watch. The hours in the day. The minutes that run your everyday life.

Time is a stupid little bitch.

safety-last-harold

It's selfish because it only cares about itself. It gives you exactly what it wants to give you every single day, and there's literally nothing you can do about it. 24 hours - no more, no less. Every breath we take, every move we make, we take the exact time into consideration. Everything is based off how much time we have to do it; You only five minutes to do this or an hour until this. Time dominates all, and it frustrates me.

THERE'S NO TIME TO DO EVERYTHING. Have you noticed? I'm sure you have unless you're freshly graduated in your first real world job and have no idea what I mean. "What? I still go to happy hours every night after work and stay up until midnight or later. It's awesome." You're foolish, young one. You'll soon learn and join us "older" kids down here in the trenches of war we call "life."

I just want to do it all, is that so much to ask? I want to get enough sleep every night, but stay up watching a new Netflix binge until I pass out with my laptop fully exposed on my bed. I want to be well-rested, but I want to read my new book because it makes me feel smart and cultured. I want to socialize after work, but that means I'll get to bed late and might miss my morning workout. I want to workout in the mornings, but sometimes I can't always fall asleep at the time I need to, which gives me anxiety about getting enough sleep and then I can't sleep at all because I'm freaking out about sleep. I really need to run these errands after work, but I might be working late, and I also need to let my dog out and make dinner at a decent time. I want to eat dinner at a normal dinner time, but I really want to try this new recipe so I have to go to the store first and prep all the food. I want to make the most of my evenings after work, but by the time I get home from my commute, I have about a good three hours before I have to get into bed if I want to get the always-stressed but rarely successfully executed "good night's rest." 

I want to do it all and do nothing, be everywhere and be nowhere, check-off every task in a timely manner without missing out on anything else. But none of that is possible, and it makes me sad. Sad because I know I am just a slave to time; I have no control over it. It controls me. In order to get it all done, I have to sacrifice the quality or quantity of other things, and that's the harsh realization I've come to this week. 

If I want to get up early for the gym, I have to get in bed earlier, which cuts into the precious few hours of freedom I have after work every night. 

If I want to stay up later reading or writing or Netflixing, I have to accept that I may be more tired than usual tomorrow and ruin my health kick by drinking way too much caffeine.

If I have to work late in order to get ahead and impress my coworkers, I have to get home later, let my dog out later, eat later, and try to enjoy the two hours of decompression time I will have that night.

It's hard to accept these things. As silly as it sounds, it makes me want to throw a toddler-like tantrum. I want to scream, kick, scream-cry, throw myself on the floor and thrash my body around violently. Then, I want someone to hold me tight, feed me chips and queso tenderly, and tell me it's gonna all gonna be okay. 

I guess it comes down to this with us and time -- we have to pick and choose. We can't do it all even though we want to. We want to be a perfect citizen: well-rested, well-worked, well-read, well-written, just WELL. But, in order to remain sane and not let time get the best of us, we'll always be a little tired, a little unhealthy, a little under-read because there literally aren't enough hours in a day or minutes in an hour to get it all done. We'll always have a long list of things we want and plan to do, just not today. Maybe some other time. When we have the time. 

Fucking time, man.

xox,

emma

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