“What day is today?”
“Well, it’s gotta be Sunday; we just watched the Super Bowl.”
“Is today Monday? Oh, it’s Tuesday — the neighbor’s trashcans are all out. Better get ours out!”
And so the conversations go as of late.
Never miss a local story.
No, it’s not early on-set Alzheimer’s. Perhaps some Benign Forgetfulness. But, what is bringing it on? No school calendar. Who’d a thunk it? Love of My Life and I don’t work regular jobs either. That compounds things.
As we were sitting around the fire pit at our friends’ house last night after the “big game,” we started reminiscing about how it was having kids, watching them running around that yard, how they’ve grown up. Luckily (?) for them, their daughter is in college sports and so they still have some sense of time. That and “normal” jobs. But, nonetheless, time does take on a different perspective.
My honey and I have embarked on the path to becoming hypnotherapists. One of the aspects of hypnosis we discussed was “time distortion.” This is certainly what having children, or rather, no children around feels like. Have we been hypnotized all these years? Yeah, likely.
One of our other friends there last night is recently retired. We were jivin’ him about sleeping in (fat chance) and all his “free time” now. “Geez, I don’t know how I could have done all I do now and worked full time. It’s mind-boggling!” Indeed, I’ve wondered that same thing about most of the retired Cambrians I know.
Therefore, be it known that, while you think you may have more time to “do what you want” when the kids are grown or the regular workdays cease, that is not the case. And, I’ll tell you why that’s true for me.
Now, I will confess I’m far from one of those A-type personalities. I’m more like a C-type, you know, “casual.” I’ve mentioned before how I can stare out a window longer than anyone I know. That’s one of the things Love of My Life loves about me. Anyway, sometimes I get lost out that window now. That, and I can now allow time for the most mundane tasks (by my standards) like scrubbing grout or dusting baseboards. Sometimes.
Time is a funny thing. Always was, but more so now. When I know I’ve got massage appointments, I get really nervous about remembering them. When I had to balance my regular days at the pharmacy with Zachary’s football practices or his project due dates, it was much easier. I wrote everything down to keep it straight. Now I have to write it down just to remember it at all.
Now, this is not to say that all of you our there need to offer me up things to do in my “spare” time. I don’t need to go there, thank you. I’m just sayin’
I’m sure I’ll be able to hypnotize myself into keeping better track of days and times, but I’m not so sure I want to. Oblivion is not so bad some times