Tick. Tick. Tick.
Sonnet 12: When I do count the clock that tells the time by William Shakespeare
When I do count the clock that tells the time,
And see the brave day sunk in hideous night;
When I behold the violet past prime,
And sable curls all silvered o’er with white;
When lofty trees I see barren of leaves
Which erst from heat did canopy the herd,
And summer’s green all girded up in sheaves
Borne on the bier with white and bristly beard,
Then of thy beauty do I question make
That thou among the wastes of time must go,
Since sweets and beauties do themselves forsake
And die as fast as they see others grow;
And nothing ‘gainst Time’s scythe can make defence
Save breed, to brave him when he takes thee hence.
Is it time management or is it crisis management? Time seems to slip through my fingers no matter how tightly I lace those fingers and I just can’t seem to stop it FOR EVEN ONE SECOND! Each morning is filled with grand plans of how each productive moment will be spent. In my mind, I ration those precious minutes, leaving myself with the luxury of extra minutes to do whatever I want. Then reality and my true nature take over. One thing leads to another and pretty soon I am multitasking, I am here, there, and over on the other side, doing this, that and something else too. Not content to take care of my own list of to do’s, I am helping myself into other people’s to do’s in an effort to help them ration their own precious minutes while my own dwindle to nothing then go speeding into the negatives.
Each night I help myself to some of those non-existent spare minutes to spend a bit of time here in my playground, while the playground monitor yells at me, “You have this, that and something else to do!” (I really do have to get the kitchen cleaned up, clothes folded and another load started and quite possibly some sleep tonight.)
Before I leave recess: I was given a lovely award by the Amazing Kiwsparks
In keeping with this award, I am to tell you something about me. I know that everyone is pretty much aware of my attraction to shiny things so I’m not going there!
This is Something About Cyndi
She counts things obsessively, while driving, from horses, to accent lighting, to Buicks, to red, white and blue cars (in that order) to driveway reflectors. It gets tiresome, but someone has to do it.
She has double-jointed elbows that look broken when she ‘straightens’ them out. In fact, while she was managing a store in Lansing, she frightened one of her staff members so badly with them that he fell down.
Her music tastes run to the not-so-run-of-the-mill. Her favorite songs are Suantrai by Anuna, Northern Star by Ollabelle, Camel Walk by Southern Culture on the Skids, Barton Hollow by The Civil Wars, Whisper by Morphine, Mambo de la Mort by Los Bombom and Beautiful Things by Gungor. She has many other favorites, but these ones are her bestest ones.
Cyndi dreams of sea shells all of the time and the seashore. In her dreams, she is always looking for and picking up seashells of every variety while waves are crashing on the shore and the wind is blowing her hair.
She went to Kendall School of Design and has used her education wisely. She managed retail stores for many years and is now a librarian.
And now I am to pass this award on to some deserving bloggers:
I am keeping it short but sweet as I can see the other children leaving the playground – those of you whom I have re-gifted this fine award: respond if you would like to, but if not, just bask in the sweetness of well deserved recognition for your hard work!
The bell is ringing and recess is over. I am off to do my home work…