Something that often puzzles me is how time just slips away. No matter how much I have, it never stretches as far as I want it to. I compare against old times, and I wonder, how did I ever manage to do things before I quit watching TV? How did I manage when I commuted 90 minutes a day? How did I manage to watch a whole season of Heroes and My So-Called Life, while still keeping an apartment clean and finding time to read?
These days I’m cramming more than the usual into my weeks, and so I’m having to reconsider choices. Nobody asked me to run 40km a week, or go back to air drying clothes and ironing shirts. Nobody asked me to rekindle my interest in cooking, or to work through some meaty math books.
I suppose this all means I do have the time, and i do have the freedom. I wouldn’t complain if I didn’t. I just want more!