Time. Not enough time, too much time, time for dinner, time to waste, time for a change. I think about time, quite a lot, especially when I haven’t enough of it, or when I’m wasting it. It concerns me when time seems to fly by. This year, for example, has been a whirlwind. It’s coming up to my birthday in a few weeks, which also marks the year mark of my time at my ‘new’ job. The reason I’m happier, the reason I stopped writing for my old blog.
This year was also the year we started to (slowly) take control of our home, we went on holiday to Turkey (with the in-laws), and I’ve started to figure out who I want to be, in the years to come. This isn’t an easy transition, you know. Growing up (yes, I’m still doing that at 27, why do you ask?) can be either an accident or deliberate. I’ve been pretty nonchalant about it up to now, but I realise that who I become now very much informs the person I will be for most of my adult life. And I think that’s something worth being deliberate about, don’t you?
I want to be interested, active, the kind of person people ask to do things, an interesting person. I want to be the kind of person who re-upholsters a chair over the weekend, or paints the kitchen in an afternoon. At the moment, I’m much more likely to blow both off for cocktails in the sun, but it’s important to me to try, and if that means thinking about it for a long time first, I’ll take it. After all, I took a year to tell my friends that I was engaged – clearly I move at glacial speeds.
So, when it comes to time, it turns out that time is the most important thing there is. Actually.
Photo from flickr user.