Time.

     I am the biggest procrastinator.  If left to my own devices, I can find a hundred quick and easy ways to kill an afternoon, generally without leaving the house.  Some of my favourite ways to "kill time" include the following: reading books (for the past few months I have not been able to get enough of the detective/mystery genre); watching back episodes of reality TV shows like Amazing Race and Top Chef; puttering around on the internet (okay, I'll admit it, really just Twitter, with an odd visit to various job sites and the Kijiji free list); baking (I should qualify this too - recently I found a great recipe for peanut butter cookies on the back of a jar of Jif, and now Earl and I have become 'cookie snobs', refusing to buy store-bought, and since we eat about half a batch at once, I could make cookies every day.  And since I bought bananas - which Earl hates - and let half of them go brown, I need to learn how to make muffins too before the bananas completely rot!); talking to my sister, Mamacita, via text while she's at work; talking to my Mom on the phone (while my Nana was sick recently I spoke to my Mom every day, and I feel a bit of withdrawal having not spoken to her in about 48 hours); petting my cat Turkey (which I could literally do for hours, and I think he'd be okay with that too!); listening to music (which, since our only method of playing music is vinyl, is a far more interactive activity than you might think - always switching sides and tidying inserts and finding the right sleeves, etc.); and tidying (not cleaning - I don't like that so much - but I do love to tidy.  On Saturday while Earl was in the city I spent the day catching up on Top Chef and folding every article of clothing in the house.  For fun.).

How could you NOT want to snuggle
with this kitty all day?

At least I don't play Smurf Village on my iPhone anymore.

     And then I realize how much time has passed, and I get freaked out because there are always things I should be doing instead.  Serious job searching like making calls and connections and doing research; doing work for my new course (none of my classmates have posted our first real assignment yet, so I think I'm in good company here, although I believe the rest of them are gainfully employed!); doing more to promote Earl's artwork and find him new audiences and apply to upcoming shows; actually cleaning the house and doing dishes instead of just doing the jobs I like, like laundry - and tidying; and exercising (I know - to some people this is a procrastinatory activity, but since I don't like it, I put it in the 'things I feel guilty about NOT spending my time doing' category).  I'm sure there are more things to go  on that list, but I think I've blocked them in an attempt to preserve my sanity.

Wouldn't YOU rather listen to, and
tidy up, these records rather than
write a cover letter for a job you're
sure you won't get?

     And so, I procrastinate, and then something happens and I get sick or don't sleep well or someone drops by and the "later" time in which I had planned to get something done disappears.  And then I'm screwed.

     Time is a funny thing.  Sometimes we have too much, or it goes too slowly (think waiting rooms, time spent in transit or lines, waiting for a delicious-smelling dinner to be ready, or that horrible 2-3am "I'm the only one awake in the world" time).  Sometimes it totally flies (time spent with friends, or while racing to meet a deadline, or on Twitter).  I realized today that Earl and I have now been living in Peterborough for six months.  I feel like we just got here, but at the same time, I feel like we've been here forever.  It was totally bizarre to me to realize when my old friend got in touch earlier this week that it had literally been 20 years since we last spoke.  We weren't even 20 years old at that time!  It's been a whole lifetime since I spoke to her, but remember time we spent together so clearly.  One memory in particular - Grade 11, skipping class (which I can honestly say we did not do very often, in fact I think we only did it this once and we definitely got caught), we went to the grocery store (I think it was the first time I'd gone to the grocery store without my Mom and I felt QUITE grown up) to buy licorice and green grapes and chocolate Hagen Daaz and we took them to the park and sat on the big old steps and smoked cigarettes, ate, and wondered what one did with oneself when one skipped school.  (Now you know what a loser I was in high school.)  How can I remember this so well?  (I even remember what I was wearing, which would not surprise my family as it's a bit of a weird thing I do - they name the event, I can tell you what I wore.  First day of grade 9? Faded skinny jeans (not cool ones like today, but high-waisted with no back pockets), pink, purple and turquoise plaid shirt with a long shirttail, Bass Weejuns.  Nanny's funeral?  Black v-neck sweater, pinstriped pencil skirt in black and charcoal, high-heeled patent leather Mary-janes.  Day my niece TT was born?  Brown hooded sweater, khakis, brown, blue and orange striped socks with a hole in one toe, slip-on Merrill approach shoes.  The day my friend and I skipped school?  Black tights with rips OVER which I wore white lace tights with rips, a short grey and black circle skirt with crinoline, black t-shirt, black slouchy socks, Doc Martin 8-hole boots with green daisy laces.)          

So many books, so little time.

     They say the older you get, the faster time goes.  This is scary, and true.  Afternoons are lifetimes as children.  Weeks are seconds as adults.  How does this work?  And what must it be like to be 80, if time is moving so fast for me at 40?

     Oh shit - I just realized I have to wake Earl up from his nap and drive him to an appointment, come back, shower, and get to a meeting myself.  Gotta run.  Where DOES the time go?