Thursday, January 20, 2011

Just some babbling about time



First of all, I have to tell you how surprised I am that with all the factories and schools I've visited, I don't have more pictures of clocks. I think these are the only two. I can't remember if that's because people always take the clocks when they leave? Or if it's because I have an aversion to measuring time. It seems to be an important distinction, and I promise on my next trip I'll pay more attention. Which probably won't be until March, because it's full on winter headrush here, what with the snow and the ice and the me falling down every time I go outside because I bought all these cute boots but unfortunately none of them have any tread. Oops.

I'm also, speaking of time, which we will be in a second (hahaha shutup), disappointed that the January Thaw has yet to appear in Cleveland. Seriously, every year, there is one week where the snow lifts and we get 50-60 degree sunny days, and it is the memory of this week which has been keeping me going for the last two, so I need it to show the fuck up already. Maybe it will be next week? In time for the Amish country drive? Or maybe climate change has stolen my week forever? I am one of those people who have very specific expectations of their seasonal experiences. Like, in my mind, the week of Easter is always perfect, no snow, no rain, lots of daffodils. While I know reasonably this cannot be true, I still hold this to be true. Just like it's also true that my birthday always has perfect weather.

So time has been fucking with me lately. Seasons and years and weeks and minutes. What do you want Time? I have never worn a watch, and maybe this is why I'm always at odds with you, Time. I'm 31. I work 10 hour days. I take 40 minute showers. I cannot fall asleep before 1am. I try hard to be on time, but am always reliably 30 minutes late, except to work. I hate to plan a bunch of stuff for one day, because even if its all play, I feel rushed. I like when things are open ended, and have no limit or direction. I hate the structure of a schedule. When you give me a schedule, I will try to mess it up almost immediately, in order to relieve the pressure.

I joined a gym lately, and yes I know it's the whole New Years thing, but the truth is that there are those of us who want to join in the fall, and then tell ourselves it's better to wait until after the holiday drinking fest to really be serious about it, and also you always get deals in January. So I just started, and the 30 minutes cardio feels like an eternity. After fifteen minutes, I'm just so bored I could cry. But I tell myself, every time, that if I was fucking, this would be nothing, that 30 minutes is not even past foreplay, and so therefore I have no excuse, that of course I can do this, that it's a minuscule amount of time really. If it was something I really liked, I'd be able to do it forever.

So I have to devalue time in order to live with it. And I wonder now if that's how we all get by.

6 comments:

  1. I get profoundly bored at the gym, too. This is the reason I'll never win an Olympic gold medal.

    The ONLY reason.

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  2. The test in the second or third grade with all the little pictures of clocks where you have to write down the time (Half past??! Quarter till!?!?) is the only test I ever totally failed. I still don't know what "of" means in relation to time. As in, "It's 20 of 5." I have no idea. Just tell me the party starts 30 minutes before it actually starts.

    Also, try books on tape/iPod? I find that music about sex is also motivational.

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  3. Sarah - Someday knitting and live blogging will both be Olympic events, and you'll go down in history. Also, we will be fierce competitors and I may try to take you out with a keyboard.

    Anon - music about sex is always weird. I can't think of a single song about sex that's actually sexy. I've only had one boyfriend that wanted to listen to music during sex, and it was always Kiss, so I may have a fucked up perspective here. But I think I will just stick with imagining the people on the muted tv fucking. Which is especially entertaining when it's the Nightly Business Report on PBS. Which sometimes it is! Which is one reason I like to work out late at night.

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  4. What gym did you join, Miss Bridget Ladypants? I go to one in Rocky River. If we do in fact go to the same gym I'll volunteer to entertain you during such cardio. Like tap dancing. Because that's cardio for me, too.

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  5. what would happen if there were more clocks is that I would remember to set them all to the same time. Mrs. Havisham style.

    A lot of those places, you know, Time was real there - in the way that it isn't at home or in your job. The tide of time had its own perceptible presence. Is it 7:46? Is it that time when the big paint-peel finally falls to the ground? Is it that time where the gauge in the chalkboard festers with silverfish?

    The real times observed.

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  6. 30 minutes isn't past fore play... hmm...

    I enjoy the incremental differencethat you can make from training seesion to training session. It gives me structure and purpose.

    30 minutes is't past fore play... must be some of the Sting-tantric, Vulcan mind control thing... I have to start getting in shape then... have to get back into a gym.

    Wow... life is circular. At least mine is.

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