Saturday
12/02/04
Rip Van... Whaaa?
One of the many things in which I’ve meant to indulge myself more lately is reading. More specifically, to reacquaint myself with the details of a yarn about an certain oldster who takes a little snooze underneath tree which, if I remember correctly, overlooks the Hudson in only the most picturesque of ways. I suppose you could say that Rip’s snooze went well; perhaps a little too well as he didn’t manage to make it back from the land of nod for as many as twenty presumably restful years. Of course his family was probably relieved to be rid of the lazy old sot, but that’s probably a discussion best left for another day.
Anyway, as I’ve never been one to shrink from the chance to experience a new personal failing, I’ve just experienced my own inexplicable loss of time just this very afternoon. To wit: when I went to check the Master Family Calendar on the refrigerator I was horrified to find that it’s now December.
Just like that. Poof. December the First had stalked me silently and then, not unlike that fifth Mai Tai at a July Forth B-B-Q, struck swiftly and mercilessly.
"Whaaa…?" came my predictably articulate reaction. Where had I been? What had I been doing all this time? Certainly not blogging.
I suppose it’s just one of life’s little mysteries that since graduating and getting my degree in early September I seem to have far less time than when I was busy procrastinating and not getting any school work done. Inexplicably, now it seems there’s less time than ever to chauffeur my lads hither and yon, cook meals, check homework, mow the lawn, rake leaves, unplug plugged toilets and shop for groceries… along with all the other vastly rewarding little chores that make up the day of an average at-home-dad.
So, got my résumé done? Nope. Getting any of the writing done that’s been waiting patiently in the back of my head? Noo. Making any headway though my pile of books that’s grown over the last couple of years? Nah.
Maybe this whole "Done With School And Yet There’s Less Time Than Ever" thing is the product of some sort of counter-intuitive quantum mechanics mix-up. Chaos theory gone awry. String theory getting tangled; that sort of thing. Could be I’m trapped in one of those pesky temporal distortions that Spock and Data are always going on about.
Or… perhaps it’s more likely that I’m just a disorganized knucklehead. Yes, that would seem the most likely explanation. The solution? As painful as it seems I suppose I really have no other choice than growing up and getting a daily planner to break down my days into a feasible schedule. A sexy solution it’s not, but then again I’m willing to bet old Van Winkle would love nothing better than the chance to trade those twenty years for a Day Timer.
