I am in a dangerous mood this morning. Why? you may ask.
Because there is no tea.
Why is there no tea?
Because I made it and left it on the bloody counter because I was not awake enough to remember it after shoveling in my breakfast while STANDING (horrid way to start a morning), then trying to get the dog and the giant cookie cake for the vet school (which said: Thanks for making me better <3 Daisy) into the car this morning. The staff got teary.
Project Punctual is leaving me with a general homicidal rage. Because I can Do All The Things, it’s just not necessarily on someone else’s time clock. I’ve been so freaking stressed out this week, watching the bloody clock that I haven’t been able to focus on actual work, on top of which I haven’t been sleeping well, as it’s been near to 100 every day this week and our AC just can’t compensate for that (modern houses are built with better insulation but AC systems that are adequate only to about 90 degrees, which is moronic since Mississippi spends at least 3 months a year above that), and I can’t sleep if it’s warmer than 70. I was also so clock focused that I flat FORGOT to take Daisy to PT on Tuesday. The physical therapist called about 9:30 to make sure everything was okay.
I have this weird sort of relationship with time. My efficiency and discipline have almost nothing to do with time. I pick something, I do it until it’s finished, and move on to the next thing. The only thing I regularly have time associated with (outside alarm clock waking me up and the timer on my tea) are the various HIIT and Lady Spartacus workout timers that beep and tell me when to change what I’m doing.
I have SO MUCH packed into my day that having to actually THINK about time and, not only that, but specific times, is about to push me over the edge. The proverbial straw.
Possibly this would not be so bad if I lived in a country where there was a daily nap. Of course if I lived in one of those countries, no one would be this obsessed with time. Sometimes I really hate American society. We’re unhealthier than most of the rest of the world because most people here eat crap, don’t exercise, sit at a desk all day, and generally live to work, such that they’d rather pop a half dozen pills to fix problems than change the habits that created the problems in the first place.
Times like these, I miss France.