There is nothing that stresses me out more than being late, to the point of it being a psychological condition rather than a social habit. Even though I have improved in recent years I am convinced that I will eventually die of a heart attack induced by running late for something. When we travel David obsesses about all the little things like (1) where we're going to sleep, (2) when we're going to eat, and (3) what we're going to do. I only obsess about getting to the airport on time.
I never wear a watch because I am uncomfortable in jewelery and I spend most of my days in front of a computer with my cell phone nearby. Even in the absence of clocks I am uncannily good at estimating the time. But things are different when I am puttering around Farcical Farm -- whole hours slide by in what feels like 15 minutes. If I definitely need to be somewhere I keep my phone in my pocket, but it tends to get dirty and abused (even dirtier and more abused than it gets in everyday life). A big clock somewhere outdoors seems like the practical solution, but the thought of installing one makes me kind of sad.
However, it makes me very happy to let FFF readers know that Black Jack's Carol made it home from the hospital today. Welcome back Carol!
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7 comments:
It seems I have the same disorder as you do. I am never late, usually early, and don't like other people being late either. I'm pretty good at knowing what time it is at any given moment except when I'm at the farm doing things. You're right time seems to slip by so quickly there. Instead of installing a clock that you really don't want to, why don't you get a watch that attaches to your belt loop. My husband has one of these that he uses when he plays golf.
I used to always be early for things, but in recent years it seems one or other of my critters (or simply the temptation to linger in the pasture) has made me late more often than not.
Even running five or ten minutes late, I always seem to be the first to arrive at a meeting or get together! We are a society in which punctuality has lost its virtue, I think.
Thanks, dp. Your good thoughts have come through loud and clear, and are so appreciated!
As for time, I admitted somewhere on my blog to being time challenged. That said, I think I'm a bit of a Jekyll & Hyde in that respect. I have an anal side that shows up sometimes, when I will be early for appointments and really upset at the thought of being late. And then, my rebellious or maybe just laid-back side can show up, where I will tend to arrive with 5 seconds or so on either side of the time limit, or even, positively, no bones about it, late. My greatest disappointment in myself at those times is the inconvenience to others, and I always swear to do better, with varying success. My recent picture-taking obsession hasn't helped my time affliction, nor has blog-keeping, but I struggle on. The good thing is that I am a bit more flexible and understanding with others who share my challenges, on either side of the line.
I think your passions are with Farcical and with home life, and I would hate to see an outdoor clock interfere with that. Blogging about slipping time may be all that is needed to balance the equation satisfactorily in your, I know, very responsible and focused approach to life. My take on things? Take it easy, dp. You are self-driven enough that I celebrate every thought, no matter how fleeting, of "to-heck-with-it-I'm-going-to-enjoy-the-good-moments-as-they-come" attitude.
Oh my goodness, I am the same way with time. I stress over every little second if I think I'm late. Every single time my FH and I go to the movie, it's the same routine: He is relaxed about the time, and I FREAK OUT because we're going to arrive after the movie start time. He tells me to chill because we'll just miss the previews and nothing else. But my freak out ensues. Must. Be. On. Time!
The stable where I ride has a big clock inside both the barn and the indoor ring. In nice weather, when I rode outside, I always tried to remember to wear a watch. The times I didn't, I felt kind of bothered, because I didn't know how long I was riding for.
I seriously need to loosen up my attachment to time!
When I HAD places to be, I was also quite OCD about being 'on-time'. In school, a teacher had a saying, "If you're early, you're on time. If you're on time, you're late, and if you're late, you're unexcused!"
Then the military made me quite time phobic.
Living in LA, I developed a 'better late than dead' philosophy towards driving to get somewhere. If I need to be at an appointment, or to the airport, or other non-negotiable timed thing, we do our very best to be early! Otherwise, things always work out. It's part of the slowing down of old age, I think!
I used to have a watch on a pendant that I would wear under my shirt, and I had a friend who 'installed' one in his hat. When asked the time, he would take the hat off, hold it up as if blocking the sun, and pronounce the correct time! Amazes the mundanes, I must say!
Wha happin ta Carol? Oh, well, not important. It IS important that she's home and getting well! Yay for getting well!
Oh my goodness! I'm the same way. I never wear a watch and would never want one in a barn. I love how time seems to fly while I'm doing barn stuff. I'm at peace there. A clock would take that away, I think.
And I always seem to be late. Sometimes I even tell myself that I have an appt 1/2 hour before my scheduled time so I'll get there just in time. lol!
~Lisa
I tend forget to leave enough time for transitions: I'll set two appointments/classes/meetings back-to-back, without allowing for the 5 or 10 minute walk/drive between.
In the barn, I work until I'm tired, or hungry (or my SO lets me know HE'S hungry!). If I absolutely have a time to be somewhere, I CAN check the clock radio in the tackroom (if the radio's on, I can sometimes track how many station breaks have passed), but usually I ask said SO to yell at me when I have a half hour left to get ready to go wherever it is I have to go. Elsewise I'd never get anywhere off the farm on my weekends! Though I generally DON'T schedule to be anywhere else during my farm time!
messesse = the rodent who rubs the tight muscles of your back by running about
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