…one man's contribution to the Weeeeerly Wild World
Or is it, “No rest for the wicked”? Either way, finding enough time for everything I normally do whilst adding a big(ish) project to my life, is quite a challenge.
I long ago realised I was someone that needed a lot of sleep. Or so I thought, but apparently 9 hours is normal, even if it seems like a lot. I tried to cut down, to even gain an hour of daytime, but my body wouldn’t let me – I feel rough after a few days of setting my alarm clock a little earlier. I’ve tried to convince myself it’s a matter of mind over, well, matter, convincing the brain it doesn’t need sleep, but it doesn’t work, not for me anyway.
Oh to be a vampire and to be immortal, with all the time in the world (even you’d have to sleep during the day) – I wouldn’t let immortality make me lazy though, no, I’d want to spend each day bettering myself, learning, absorbing, doing.
Another method of gaining more time, when accepting a bite to the neck isn’t an option, is to spend less time doing nothing – you know, those times when you sit either doing nothing, or listing what you want to do (I’m terrible for that), procrastinating (I’m terrible for that too), or faffing around (guilty). I’ve scribbled out charts depicting, in red like a strict teacher, all the time I wasted throughout a week – the 15 minutes here and 5 minutes there, in between waking up and getting out of bed, between eating breakfast and cycling to work, brushing my teeth and crawling back into bed. It all adds up. How many years do we end up washing our hair?
It’s hard to be that regimented, week in, week out, month after month. Or perhaps it’s not even healthy. You need time to absorb each day I think, time to really live – sometimes to really live is to partake in those moments of nothingness. Your need time in the morning to remember your night’s dreams – that’s what sleep is for, time for the subconscious to bubble to the surface and influence the days ahead, to help us grow and live.
But sometimes you want your life for have purpose, a guided one, and time doing things, to be known as the person that does this or that, or just to see yourself as that person. I’m that person that cycles most days, I jog a short distance most weekends, I work for myself repairing computers for people during the week, I spend my spare time reading, some writing, maintaining computers to participate in SETI@home, exploring Second Life and hanging out with friends there, occasionally blogging, taking pictures or playing guitar. That’s me I think. That’s my time.
I had spent the past ten years looking forward to the time when I would finally get my own house. Nothing lavish, ideally something a little run-down to work on and to make my own. Working for myself in a quiet area didn’t realistically bring in the finances to fund such a thing (according to the banks at least), but I’m quite content with living by simple means. Those ten years or so were up, I found my house, and bidding went my way.
The first shock has been the lack of time. I want to fit in everything I already do, while doing what I’ve looked forward to doing – doing up my own house. But I never anticipated how long it takes, or rather how much time is required each week, and it’s not even that bad, the condition, although every room does need some work – plastering here, a ceiling there, it’s not like a derelict castle (I have been reading about the restoration of Gwydir Castle in the book by Judy Corbett – Castles in the Air).
It’s one of those life changing events, buying a house, your first one anyway, although I never anticipated it that way, and while I always imagined doing the work on my own, I think I expected some help from my dad, but at the same time of buying my house he died – literally, on the morning of his funeral I was collecting the keys from the estate agents. Now I’m a little lost – I was expecting him to be there, to pick his brains about what sort of paint to use here, what size drill-bit to use there, even if I already know how to paint and drill, thanks to what I’ve seen him do over the years. That’s kind of a double-whammy of life changing events – buying a house and saying bye to a parent. But I don’t want things like this to change me – I like who I am, I’m happy in myself – a house was always meant to add to my life, not change it, and the work wasn’t to become my life, it’s meant to be part of the journey, I see myself sitting quietly reading in a finished room, not endlessly decorating…
If only I can find the time.