It saunters, until it stampedes.
August, September, even October to a certain degree… all of them felt like “wow, I have forever until Christmas.” Now, it’s November, and suddenly, it hits me – oh shit.
I experience this to a lesser degree nearly every stinking night, which suggests perhaps my relationship with time is … unusual. When I’m doing whatever it is I’m obsessively doing in the evening, it seems so very, very early – right until 10pm hits. Then, suddenly, “oh crap! I haven’t taken my drugs yet! I’m nowhere neary ready for bed!” and then I inevitably get distracted by something shiny for 45 minutes to an hour, and it’s after 11 and the alarm will be going off at 6, regardless. I’m even cognizant of it – “Oh, it’s 8:30, I should start thinking about wrapping this up, taking my drugs early and SHINY THING!!!!”
So two more hours go by.
When I was little, I always wondered at why adults kept saying “time goes by so quickly.” Time oozed by for me. It didn’t matter if I was in school, outside or on vacation – days took forever. A month? Incomprehensible.
I developed a theory when I was in the third grade, and physicists, take special note – I believe I was onto something here. My hypothesis was, “time is like a river – the bigger you are, the more you get swept up by the current.”
How brilliant is THAT?!
So, as time flows over and around us, the kids and little animals and such didn’t experience as much “drag,” while the taller adults got the full brunt of it and it swept them along more quickly. There could be pockets and eddies that accounted for all the weird time/space anomalies I saw on television and in movies, even.
There were, naturally, a few flaws to that theory, like why Magic Johnson didn’t age at a rate of knots, but, being eight years old, I was able to overlook them, much as I was able to overlook the distinct lack of actual great white sharks swimming around my bed at night. I still believed in them.
Of late, time has had me in the grips of its riptide, “of late” meaning the last two or three years. The seasons whiz by as if I were on a kaleidoscopic roller coaster, I see holidays faintly on the horizon and then they’ve buzzed past before I can even focus.
So it is I find myself in the unenviable, yet apparently common, position of “now that I’ve decided to make people Stuff for Christmas, where the frick am I going to find the time?!”
As if I hadn’t complicated things enough for myself, the last time I was at JoAnn I picked up some yarn, a pair of needles and a tiny “teach yourself to knit” booklet. The booklet is, sadly, completely useless. The diagrams are not easy to follow; best as I can tell, knitting involves a handful of spaghetti, two chopsticks and an alien hand. Fortunately, I have friends who knit and will probably be willing to show me the basics. 🙂 That’s on the back burner for now, though.
Tonight, back to the hand-quilting of Mom’s quilt, and the plotting of other gifts.
And the onset of panic, perhaps, but I’m just going to pencil that in, rather than set a hard schedule.