Last weekend we switched back to Standard Time. Few things mess with my head more than a time change. This year has been especially hard because I can’t figure out how to move the clock on the stereo in my car back an hour. Consequently, I’m always thinking it’s an hour later than it really is.
Frankly, setting the clock up or back does little more than piss me off. Everyone talks about gaining or losing an hour. Whatever. In the end, we still have just twenty-four hours in a day.
No matter how you cut it, that’s just not enough time to get everything done. Forget shifting things around an hour. I’m ready for a time change I can believe in; one that magically results in a few extra hours every day.
Not having to work would help. Don’t get me wrong–I’m grateful to have a job I still love. But if I had enough money to retire, I would, and I wouldn’t miss work one little bit. I’ve got more than enough to keep me busy.
Winning the lottery (highly unlikely since I never buy tickets) or receiving a huge advance for one of my books would help. An extra half million dollars or so (after taxes of course) would enable me to retire early. The possibility of a big advance motivates me to write whenever I get a chance.
I hesitate to talk about how different my life would be without a job. Given the current political climate and the economy, my taxpayer-funded job could vanish in a heartbeat. Dreaming about a carefree life without a job seems an awful lot like tempting the fates. So as I write this post, know that I’m knocking on wood almost continuously and hoping my somewhat foolish wish for a jobless existence doesn’t come true without the aforementioned half million dollars.
Staying connected is important. If I didn’t need to work, much as I do now, I’d spend the first hour or two of my day catching up on current events. That means checking my e-mail, Twitter, Facebook, and blog accounts; reading the newspaper; and checking out the national news and weather forecast on television.
After eating a healthy breakfast, I’d get ready to do some writing. I’d take the dogs for a walk to wear them out so they’ll sleep instead of pestering me. Before settling down to write for a couple of hours, I’d straighten things up around the house and maybe start some laundry or run the vacuum cleaner. I’ve got a thing for clean floors.
On weekdays, unless it was Friday, I’d take a break from writing at eleven o’clock to listen to NPR. I love To the Best of Our Knowledge (Monday and Tuesday), the Commonwealth Club (Wednesday) and Tech/Biotech Nation (Thursday). I skip Fridays because I think Nick Forrester’s etown is the most pretentious show on the air. Fresh Air with Terri Gross comes on at noon every day. For many she’s an acquired taste, but I’ve come to love her.
While listening to my radio shows (on my iPod Nano), I’d get my run in and would increase the frequency to five times a week. After stretching and cooling down, it would be time for a healthy salad for lunch followed by a shower. If I was on a roll, I’d write some more. Otherwise, I’d pile up in bed with the dogs for a nice long nap.
After my nap or an hour or two of writing, I’d let the dogs out and fix a pot of coffee. Unless we’d planned on going out to eat, I might even start dinner. Then I’d watch Jerry Springer and Dr. Phil while waiting for my partner to come home from work.
Following an early dinner, except for my day off from exercising, I’d head to the gym. Three days for strength training and three days of cardio–usually Zumba though I also like Step Aerobics. I’m interested in checking out a couple of other classes I’ve heard about but don’t know when I’d fit them in.
Staying on top of stuff would be a lot easier. I’d devote one morning each week to yard work or projects around the house and set aside an afternoon for errands and appointments. Hopefully one full day a week would be enough.
No wonder my retired friends say they don’t see how they ever had time to work. But alas, at least for the time being, not working is not an option for me. So I’ll keep wishing for more time as I let stuff go here in…
My Glass House