Time Isn’t Cheap

“I feel thin, sort of stretched, like butter scraped over too much bread,” said Bilbo Baggins. I don’t have the One Ring, but I think I know how he feels.

I feel I am, white-knuckled, on the very edge of life’s merry-go-round, about to be flung off. My plates are wobbling, my ducks are rebelling in their row.

It’s not that I’m complaining… exactly. I DID sign myself up for this–two jobs, plus a writing career, etc. I guess I just wish I could accept it, move past that frantic feeling and get down to business. I don’t have time to panic.

Funny thing: about a year ago my boss lectured me on becoming more efficient. If we had an ‘efficiency contest’ now, I’m damn sure I’d win. I know there are people who work far more hours than I and still get more done, but still, I pride myself in my time management. I can fit any task into the bite size pieces of time I have between work and work and work. I’m writing this on my phone on my lunch break. I’ll finish it on last break, and post it when I get home.

I’ve eliminated so much time waste from my life, but I still don’t have time.
I don’t want to be efficient. I want my time back.

Time is more valuable than money. You can replace a dollar, but you can’t replace time once it’s gone. Its a shame that we sell our time so cheaply. I sell my Saturdays for fifty bucks each. Fifty bucks! That’s almost volunteering. Yes, I do it to survive, but if I valued my time at it’s true price, would I leave it at that?

I’ve got no grand moral for this story. I’m just angry, just frustrated with how long it takes to get ahead. I will get ahead. I will! I just hope I can hold it together that long.

Post Script: I found this in my drafts today. I can’t remember why I didn’t post it–maybe because I was too pissed in the moment (not a good time just to throw your thoughts online). I think that this represents the tension between where we are and where we could be, and this is healthy–as long as it remains in proper perspective and we don’t give up. Here’s to following our dreams.
–Geralyn

Why Am I Still Up?

Well, that may be it. This week may be a failure. And it’s only half way over. The clock flipped over to Wednesday an hour and sixteen minutes ago.

Despite vitamin D supplements and adequate levels of sleep and yet another episode of Sherlock on my laptop, I’m in a funk I can’t seem to shake. I’m generally good at spinning all the plates that compose my life, but this time they’re wobbling something fierce.

And this is only a 44 hour workweek.

My mental real-estate is taken up by debates and work and my monthly budget, none of which are cheerful subjects, and the writing has fallen by the wayside. That’s why I’m pouring my own depressed little self onto the page. I have nothing interesting to say–unless you’d like to hear about how to exegete John 1:1-2 and if I’m going to be able to make my car payments.

No? Neither do I.

I don’t know what to do with myself.
Perhaps there’s nothing more to do but to watch funny YouTube videos and eat breakfast sandwiches (no matter what time it is).

But, there is always good news. One, January is over, and that means there may only be six weeks of winter left (if the groundhog may be trusted). Two, I don’t have to work on Saturday. Three, the world is not my responsibility in the end. And Four, I still have two English muffins.

So fry up an egg. We’re going to make it, you and I.

Maybe in a couple days I’ll have something original to say.

A Year is a Lot of Time to Waste

I’m afraid of commitment, so I don’t make New Years resolutions.  I do make resolutions, but not New Years ones.  A year is a long, long time after all, and six months in I might change my mind.  Making a decision?  Oh, not me.  Do you know how long it takes me to pick out a bag of chips?  I mean, what if there’s a better flavour?  What if I change my mind?

But I am a planner.  I make one month plans, I make one week plans.  And now I feel the need to make a one year plan.  “Like New Year’s resolutions?” my coworker asked, when I told her this.

“No.  Well… yes.  No.  It’s different.”  I mean, it’s a plan, not a wish, right?  That’s different, right?

I’ve got a whole list of plans by now, and the whole things scares the pants off of me when I think about it, which means I can’t think about it right now because I’m in public.  I guess I’ll chance it.  Maybe the boots will keep the pants in place.

I have financial goals–pay off my car, for instance.  I have health goals–losing weight, of course.  I mean, it was working before Christmas, it should work now.  I have writing goals–a stack of them.  I plan to publish for the first time in 2014, and this scares me even more than my list of goals.  I also have a goal of how many books I want to read, and on what subjects.  And, best of all, my sister and I have planned a trip for the summer when the plant shuts down.

I’ve heard it said that “Most people overestimate what they can do in a year, but they wildly underestimate what they can do in ten years”.  And I suspect this may translate into months as well.  What could I accomplish in twelve months if I deliberately planned this out?  When I began writing a to-do list for the week, it was because I was tired of forgetting things.  In one year, you can forget a lot.  I don’t want to forget the things that were important at the beginning of the year.  I don’t want a year to go by haphazardly, because time is the most important resource I have.  I don’t want my money to go to the wind, because I spend far too much time to get it.  I don’t want to finish another year without progress in my fitness, because after a few of those years I’ll wish I’d taken better care of myself.  I want to finish the year with better relationships, and new ones.

I want to thrive in 2014.

2013 was a hard year, and I’ve come through with scars on my body and on my heart.  I am sorry for the bitterness that has taken root in my soul, and for the spiritual complacency that I see in myself.  I’m sorry it was necessary to spend so much of my year at work, because it seems to have strained my relationship with my family.  I’m sorry I spent so much money on myself.  I wish I’d saved it, or spent it on others.

I don’t want 2014 to end like that.

And so, I resolve to plan.  I guess I’ll finish the plan tomorrow.  Yeah, tomorrow. 

For Trade: One Head

I’m getting a little sick of this brain of mine. Actually, I’m thinking of trading it in. My thoughts and my troubles are getting tiresome, and if I could just swap my head for another one I could get a little relief. Besides, I’ve noticed that other people seem a little sick of their heads too. Perhaps they’d like to trade.

Would you like this head?

Let me tell you about it.

Processing speed runs at average to slightly above average, with excellent information retention capacity through the audio and visual receptors. Expect to learn concepts quickly, and memorize easily. Short-term memory is a little shabby, but this can be counteracted with the use of lists and calendars.

You will inherit a highly active imagination, as well as some ability to translate this into written stories. This comes with the added benefit of never being alone, as the head is generally occupied by anywhere from two to several thousand tenants, all vying for attention and occasionally doing and saying rather nasty things. These characters are likely to get out of hand, so keep the gates well monitored, but there are one or two in there that I call my friends. I trust you will enjoy their company.

The brain comes fitted with a musical ear. Unfortunately, this musical ear is stuck ‘on’ right now, and the files must be corrupted as it keeps playing the same songs over and over again. But, if you get tired of those ones, the musical ear comes with a ‘mix’ function that can add harmonies and countermelodies.

Because of a compulsion to gain more and more knowledge, the brain is rather cluttered. If this becomes bothersome, simply take the brain off its steady diet of books, articles and audios, and it should soon become empty. It works for me every time.

You may enjoy my many wonderful memories of my family and friends, though you are unlikely to see them much as you will be far too busy. When you do meet them, they probably won’t know you that well any more. Make sure to unload on them about how your week was. That will catch them right up.

In the interest of full disclosure, I should mention that you would be required to work as a retail clerk part time as well as in the role of a pharmaceutical manufacturing operator full time. Fortunately for you, this brain actually likes these jobs and is quite passable at them. You will also be expected to peg off the remaining things on my to-do list for the month and maintain this blog.

Mechanical difficulties may include: spinning mind, overload, fatigue, negativity, depression, and chronic overthinking. I should also mention that the brain is rather disillusioned with its church and volunteer work right now. It might be a drag, but keep it up anyway. A little more sleep, and much more worship and meditation will help.

Do what you can to maintain some semblance of order in the financial and fitness departments. The brain is equipped with a rather limited capacity for each, and no athletic ability whatsoever. Perhaps on your body it will perform better.  See photo for physical attributes of said head.

Interested? Feel free to post adds for the head you’re looking to get rid of in the comment section, and if I see anything of interest I’ll contact you.

Seriously, though, I tend to think that my life and my troubles are the worst, and that no one understands (and I know others think this as well). If we would listen to each other, I bet we’d find that “everybody’s got a story that would break your heart” (Amanda Marshall). And what we want is someone to listen, empathize, and tell us it’s going to be okay. Please do post ‘adds’ for your head below. I promise to listen.

I bet, though, that I’ll go running back to my old, familiar, messed up head.

The Calm in the Center of my Storm

9:30 pm. I was pacing back and forth in front of my coater. It was running smoothly and didn’t require my attention. Nothing to do but think. My chest ached. My heart was heavy because there was nothing I could do to alleviate the conflict that was swirling around me. I wanted to pray but my words had run out. So I leaned against the warm glass of the coater’s door and stared at the tablets rushing past, and said “Lord, you can fill in the blanks.”

The day was in wreckage. I’d melted down at job #1 that morning, and biked home in tears. I’d gotten myself together in time to go to job #2, and now there was friction and hurt between my friends. My mind was too full. I’d pushed myself to breaking. I was spent.

But CTP-10 wasn’t out of God’s reach. The concrete ceiling couldn’t keep my prayers, nor my songs from reaching him. Thus, as I prayed and sang, my stark process room was God’s temple, and his presence brought me peace. He is the constant, the anchor.

“You are the calm in the center of my storm. When the cold winds blow, you’re the fire that keeps me warm. When this old world gets me down, I will rest inside your arms. You are the calm in the center of my storm” (Paul Overstreet).

I’m Not Good at Waiting: A Guilt-Ridden Confession

I hate to wait. Hate it.

And I don’t mean waiting in line, or for the microwave to finish. Actually, due to my Twitter app, Facebook app, WordPress app, and Kindle app, I can pass my line-waiting time in productive bliss. It’s the unproductive waiting I abhor.

And that is what my day was all about. Lemme ‘splain.

When I arrived at work I was given a coating assignment, but the coating pan was awaiting a post-cleaning swab so I had to wait. It was eight. The swab was scheduled for ten. I accomplished every small job I could think of, which took fifteen minutes. After waiting, and deliberating, it was decided that my two coworkers and I would make a suspension. But, just as we were ready to begin, it was discovered that one of our mixers was broken.

A mechanic was summoned. There was nothing else to do. Everything was set up. The instructions were read and reread. So we waited for his arrival, and we waited as he tinkered.

The mixer was pronounced serviceable, but the supervisor required consulting. I waited for the supervisor to be consulted.

Seems I would have made as much progress if I’d stayed home.

Ah, but what else could you do but wait? You may ask.

I have no idea. I asked my coach if I could do something. I tried to spur my coworkers along. Nothing worked. I was guilt-stricken, because I was raised to work hard and waiting doesn’t constitute of working hard unless one has a Kindle app to read furiously on. I felt like a slacker, because I was being paid good money to stand there.

Maybe I should have tried harder. Maybe I could have, I dunno, swept the floor or something.

Or, maybe, I just needed to wait, and when the time came, be faithful with my work.

I liken this to my life as a whole. I work hard—I set goals, I read, I write, I network. Yet things don’t seem to change. So I work harder! I obsess over what I’m doing wrong. I feel guilty.

But what If I need to wait? What if I need to be still? What if, by my very attempts at busyness, I miss the point?

Perhaps I need to be diligent in my work, and wait, trusting that my Heavenly Father shall work all things out in his time?

Do I have to?

Can I be Still?

Monday is goal-setting day for me.  List writing day.

It’s an efficiency thing for me.  I’m a scatterbrain and, thus, if I do not write down what I need to accomplish I don’t get much done.  So every Monday at breakfast I write down the to-do list for the week.

Clean the bathroom.  Post to blog/Facebook/Twitter.  Make dentist appointment.

Then there are the goals–write 8 hours a week (laugh if you want, but that’s hard for me), eat 5 fruits and veggies each day, exercise three hours.  These are accompanied by little circles or boxes that can be checked off to show how much I’ve done.  These are matched up against my monthly goals–writing word count, fitness goals, financial goals, books to read, etc.

Well, yesterday I didn’t have time at breakfast to write my list.  I recently started a new job, and my world is in shambles.  My schedule is in uproar.  I’m learning new things. I’m meeting new people.  By the time I get home my brain is tired.  Oh, and then I turn around and go to my other job.

I’m not an overachiever, I’m just poor.

I know that some people are far more busy than me.  I know.  But right now I feel like I’m up to my neck.  I could push myself to be more efficient, and I will, but…  On Sunday I was challenged to learn to be still and silent–to take time to get away from my tasks and be quiet.  How counterintuitive!  How ridiculous!  I am BUSY here!

But, as I was told, love and busyness are incompatible.  How do you build a relationship in a hurry?  How do you build a masterpiece in a hurry?  And that is what I am seeking to do: to love God and to build my life into a masterpiece.

So, here is the challenge that went onto my to-do list (once I wrote it, on break at work).  I will be still and silent for 10 minutes every day.  I will take time to just be.  And y’know… I think it might be what saves my sanity, and what gives me the strength to plug away at the to-do list.

I challenge you to do the same thing:  take ten minutes to sit, drink coffee, think, meditate, or pray.  Let me know what happens.  And, if you have any books or articles on the subject you think I’d find helpful, please comment.