Time After Time

Time is important. It’s a precious commodity that we hoard, stretch, waste and pilfer. The older I get the more precious it becomes and the more I start to realize how much of it I frittered away in my youth. It bothers me if I think about it too long.

There are all kinds of statistics about how we use our time. For instance, we spend roughly one third of our lives sleeping. I think that’s a little inaccurate for women since we tend to be the first ones up and the last ones to bed in any given household. We’re not as good as men at napping either. There are statistics about the time we spend eating, working and driving. And facts on how much time we use reading, watching TV and being intimate with each other. Those are all interesting, but they don’t really address the burning questions I have. I want to know about the stuff that is wasting my time. Stuff that is wasting away extra minutes I could put to use visiting the Eiffel Tower, swimming in the Caribbean or advising the President. It all adds up folks, and it matters more and more to me as the sand in my hourglass starts to get a little thin. I’ve given this some thought, and here are the estimates I’ve developed. Just don’t ask me about my scientific methods.

1. Trying on clothes that don’t fit-23 hours in the last year alone.

2. Sitting in traffic next to someone playing really loud, obnoxious music-1.5 days, all in thirty second intervals. The up side is that I can name the top three gangsta’ rap songs at any given time of the year.

3. Holding the end of a leash while the dog decides where he’s going to poop-56 hours over the course of the last six years.

4. Waiting on a doctor who is so overbooked that he’s way behind schedule-8.6 days or in other words, too freakin’ long!

5. Searching for my keys and/or cell phone-a mind numbing 12.2 hours because I’m too stupid to put them in the same place every day.

6. Wading through voicemail in search of a real human who can help me with a billing/insurance/financial question-16 years if you count that time J.C. Penney’s screwed up a charge on my credit card, and it took three months and two rounds of anger management classes to resolve.

7. Cooling my heels in the driveway waiting on Teen Angel to finish getting ready-2 hours per day multiplied by seven days a week divided by the number of matching accessories and multiplied by the number of times I have to honk my horn minus the amount of times she will roll her eyes at me…or roughly 7.2 days per year.

8. Watching America’s Most Wanted and Cops because they are Hubby’s favorite shows-2.4 looooong years. I hum “Bad Boys” in my sleep.

9. Driving Mama J. back and forth to the beauty shop-30 hours per year, all on Saturday mornings. Add a little extra beauty shop time for funerals that pop up in the middle of the week. Some people have the nerve to die on Tuesdays and Wednesdays when her hairdo is a little ragged.

10. Piddling on the internet-Well, look. I have to go. I’ll come back to this one later. After I’ve surfed the new Spring collection at Newport News and scanned TicketMaster for summer concerts. I’d like to stay, really I would, but I don’t have the time.