It rained yesterday, spoiling my chances of deadheading some of these spent flowers and spreading the seed. It poured, sparing me from picking hundreds of apples and having to deal with them, one way or another. It's supposed to rain again today. Hmmm. There's tons of work to be done, both outside and in, but I feel a bit blah, you know? Tired, worn. Sleepy. Of course, that might be because I've just gotten up and don't have my coffee in me.
My summer is flying by. The first summer session finished up on Tuesday and today the second summer session starts. I measure time in the increments of time my courses last. The summer is broken down into the two week May minimester, two five week summer sessions, and the two week break before the fall begins. And then time is measured 16 weeks, 4 weeks, 16 weeks. Somewhere in there I lose two weeks, but maybe that's one of the reasons time races by. In truth, it's that none of the courses or breaks are exactly those time spreads, and the inexactness of my measuring system adds up to my missing two weeks. Eh, close enough is good enough.
Maybe my son, who often gets mentally lost, comes by his time issues honestly? I don't wear a watch, and none of my clocks are set just right (it tends to really bother everyone else in the house that all the clocks are wildly different, but I chose clocks based on their attractiveness, not because I cared about the time). Close enough is good enough, especially since I think I'm late if I'm not a half hour early. If you're always early not being tethered particularly in time doesn't tend to be a problem, and if you've got a book to read, it's not like you lack for something to do.
Honestly, though, I'm not very good with calendars either, although I have several scattered about the house. Even when the calendar and the clock are in tandem, it's a real gamble on either being right.
Taken this morning, just a bit off, don't you think?
Not having a particular affinity for time isn't a bad thing, though, when you run your life as a creature of habit and do the same things at the same time, when you've found your rhythm, your flow. It's those major shifts in other people's schedules that cause feeling out of sorts. The summers, though, where I simply walk out the door and do my thing while my husband minds everyone else's business are a break from managing everything. When the girlies are back in school, and we all have to be somewhere by eight, we compensate, get up at five, so that we can continue to flow at a sedate pace. That would be, I believe, an example of optimization with selective compensation.
So, even though I'm still sleepy and feeling more than a bit lazy as I finish this post, I snuggle in my recliner, sipping at my coffee, relaxed, knowing it's too wet to tend to any of the busywork out in the garden this morning, confident that all my prep work yesterday has me more than ready to face a room full of students in two hours, and happy that I've got at least another half hour to just chill and enjoy relative peace before I get ready. A half hour, that is, if I look at the right clock, and thankfully, the only clock I actually look at it is the one on my laptop (and it's got a calendar that's always right, too. shhhh, don't tell!).