Monday, December 1, 2008

I can't find the time to tell you

When I was young, maybe six or seven, I remember one time I was sitting on my dad's lap, listening to records with him. A song came on that I didn't recognize, and I asked him what it was. He said, "I Can't Find the Time to Tell You."

I was quiet for a few seconds, but then I asked, "Why can't you tell me?"

He said, "No, that is the title, 'I Can't Find the Time to Tell You.'"

"Ohhhh." I got it.

Lately I've been thinking about time, and how I never seem to have enough of it. More specifically, I've noticed that I rarely read on my breaks at work (though I currently have two print books going, and one more to read for book group next week - and one audiobook), and don't write enough blogs/journal entries/poems as I'd like to. I think one of the big reasons for this is a lack of focus. I'm not too skilled at multi-tasking, but instead, I do most things slowly, methodically, carefully, thoroughly. When I wash the dishes by hand, you know those suckers are clean and well-rinsed. That's just the way I am.

I've said before that, throughout college and grad school, I always felt like I never had enough time to do all the things I wanted to do, or that I should have done, but it wasn't until after Kyle was born that I truly wished there were more hours in the day. When I want to spend a solid hour doing something just for me - primarily reading or writing - without interruption --- well, usually it isn't possible, there will be interruptions maybe 97% of the time.

I know, I know, family is important - and yes, I love my husband and children - and probably I sound selfish writing in this Greta Garbo mode, like I'm whining that I want more time and space for my own stuff - me me me! But when I can give myself over to a big juicy novel, or work out some confusing thoughts or rough emotions on paper or through the keyboard, it makes me feel so much better. It usually makes my head more peaceful and my heart happier - and don't these results make me a better wife and mother, and perhaps a better person? Maybe so --- but still, there's that TIME requirement.

Why I don't often read, and don't even blog too often, when I'm at work: my breaks and lunchtime aren't that long, so it can be really hard to get that focus that I mentioned above. Fifteen or twenty minutes is probably long enough to become immersed in a novel, but I don't want to sink into it and then have to put it down and go back to work. And crafting a blog entry (or anything else) isn't a quick thing, either: I started this one around 740am (Jeff got me here a few minutes earlier than usual, and I start work at eight) - and now I'm at the end of my afternoon break, almost 325pm. I'm inwardly debating: do I post it as is, or wait until tomorrow to add a bit more and do some polishing - in short, to make this jumble more coherent?

Decisions, decisions, and I don't have time for them, I need to get back to work!

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