Time is a Prick
Two weeks ago I put up the latest issue of Jenny Eat World. I was feeling pretty pleased with myself, until I realized that it was not the third installment after all, but the second. I’d written others, but they stayed in the first draft folder. Worse than that, the first Jenny post was almost a year ago! A YEAR.
I saw my parents three weeks ago to celebrate Mother’s Day. Before that, we got together for my birthday at the end of March. What happened to April? Neither of us could remember. I couldn’t even account for what I did, or where I went.
Recently I left work just after 5:00 as usual, dropped by an Open House (admittedly for cheese and cake), took a different L route home with a quick stop for milk and eggs, and somehow unlocked my door at 8:30. That particular course adds 15 minutes to my trip, and the connecting train was 10 minutes behind, and the bodega stop took
five minutes. I know I couldn’t have been eating cake for two hours. So where did the time go? I don’t recall walking through a portal, and I bypassed the wine tent (I know, I’m surprised too). I snarfed a quick dinner and went to bed. I felt like I was being punished.
Every week I promise myself I’ll work out (and write) more. I’ll just take a one-day break after meeting with my trainer (or staring at the laptop’s blue glow for hours), I say, and I’ll do a full routine (write a couple more pages) on Thursday. Then: oh look it’s Sunday night. Might as well have more cake.
Anyone else getting robbed by the time fairy? I’d like to hear your secrets. Or conspiracy theories, assuming they don’t cause a breach in the void. Or just bitch with me. I’m not alone…right?
