I live my life in minutes.

There are a lot of sayings and inspirational quotes about time.  However, there is nothing remotely inspirational about this sentence.  It is, in fact, a statement about the dearth of inspiration in my life.

My life is broken down to minutes.  How many minutes will getting gas take and will that make me late for my next appointment?  Is fifteen minutes enough bed time reading time with the kiddos? How many minutes can I stay in the shower and still be ready on time?  How many minutes do I bill this client?  Can I squeeze in three more minutes of reading / playing / work / sleep / breathing.

Just breath.

It’s not like I am so different from most of the people I know who work and have families, I do know that.  But this is personal.  I don’t know why other people do this to themselves, I can only speak for me.  And when I am sitting in the car, invariably two minutes late for something, and that feeling begins in my chest – you know that feeling, maybe it is a sob, maybe it is an anxiety attack held in check by nothing more than the fact that I don’t have time for an anxiety attack – I wonder how I got here.  I would really like to see a flowchart of my life decisions, said yes to college, I got a 50 hour a week career.  Said yes to kid number two, okay, say good bye to career say hello 20 hour a week job, and so on.

But more than how my decisions brought me to sitting in that car with my fingers gripping the steering wheel like it is the only thing keeping me from completely exploding, or perhaps imploding, I would like to see the chart of my non-decisions.  What did I pass up?  Would I be at this moment some earth-momma, growing our own food (beyond the few tomatoes plants I manage to not kill every summer), sewing organic clothes for my family, homeschooling my children (who am I kidding, if I was a millionaire, I wouldn’t homeschool.)  But would there be calm moments?  Moments that I recall from my own childhood, lying in the clover rubbing buttercups under our chins to check if we loved butter.  Would we have more laughter?  Less hurry?

I guess we never get back those decisions, at least not easily.  But I only had 15 minutes to write this and time waits for no man.

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