Time sure does fly when you’re not looking.
When my boys were little and I worked outside of the house, I used to believe that the days and weeks and years passed by quickly because I was so very busy.
I didn’t know any better.
When my boys were teenagers and I continued to work outside of the home, I believed that the days and hours and minutes would slow down once I was no longer helping with homework and playing chauffeur and working so many gosh-darn overtime hours.
I still didn’t know any better.
The year my mom turned 65, I said, “Mom, time is whooshing past. I can’t wait till the boys grow up and life slows back down.”
My mother looked at me with wisdom in her eyes. “If you think it’s fast now, just wait till you’re my age.”
I didn’t believe her.
And yet, now that my boys are grown up and on their own, now that I’ve stepped out of the daily commute rat race and work from home, now that it feels like I’m not rushing here and there 24/7, time continues to pick up pace.
I’ve talked to my boys and they concur. Those childhood and teenage years crawled past with all of the urgency of a snail crossing the road. But we all agree that the moment we turned the corner into adulthood, time shifted into overdrive.
How can that be? Why does it sometimes seem that the hours in a single day drag on endlessly, yet the passage of time from one Christmas to another happens in the blink of an eye? And if time speeds by faster each year, what will it be like at 95 or 100?
Do you know of a way to slow down time? Or is the ever increasing passage of time all hogwash and you recommend I get my head examined?
Thanks for stopping by to talk to me today!
Originally posted at Women Unplugged.