I've said before that life has gotten away from me. It seems that with everything going on in my life, time has been something I have not been able to grasp. I spend it and spend it, wasting it away with all the "duties" I have to take care of during the day, but I never earn any of it. It just keeps passing by, like a rushing river, always escaping me.
Time is of the essence, or so I've heard. I never really figured out what was meant by that, but I find myself constantly nodding my head in agreement. Time is something very valuable. People do so much to have so little of it to themselves. They work all day long just so they can spend a few precious hours at home with their families and loved ones, or to spend it alone with themselves. But if time is so important, it is interesting to see that so much of it is spent working, wasting, searching for more valuable time. I find that when people complain to me about not having enough time, they often spend the time they do have to devote to whatever they wish wasting it away, as if they've forgotten how valuable it is and how badly they wanted it while they were busy.
"Time doesn't make itself," my mother always told me. "You have to make time to do the things you want." But how do I make time? Push responsibilities aside? Get less sleep? Plan my day out more carefully? All of my options have varying consequences, all of which I'd rather not have to face. But my mother is right. If I do want more time to do the things I like, I'll have to make it happen. I'll have to carefully plan out my days to be able to take care of everything I need to, and have enough time left over to do the things I like. Which will, consequently, take up more time.
