Saturdays Are No Joke
When Time Stands Still
Time and I are like kids playing tag in the backyard. Usually time is chasing me and I’m racing through the freshly cut grass in my overalls, my heart pounding, my chubby legs pumping, narrowly escaping being grabbed by the bigger bully of a boy behind me. But occasionally we switch roles. Sometimes I’m the one who has to pursue time, left in the dust of a much more nimble opponent who knows the landscape, who expertly dodges trees and divots and discarded toys littering the lawn, leaving me out of breath and nowhere close to victory.
Saturday was one of those days. It was a day when instead of racing against the clock like I do during the workweek as podcaster/author/entrepreneur, trying to finish emails, calls, podcasts, meetings, anthology launch events, and books, I found the second hand had simply stalled.
Every time I looked at my watch, hardly any more time had gone by. I wanted to nudge it along so I could finally just get the kids to bed and go to sleep myself, but this round of tag was one I didn’t stand a chance to win. The bully had beaten me. By a mile.
