I have been razor focused on time.
When you don't have all you need, your vision narrows and tunnel vision lets you see nothing excepts those things relevant to getting you through to where you need to be.
A paper done, a bill paid, a meal cooked...
This weekend I walked into an urban outfitters.
My favorite place.
I know it isn't the PC place to like - it is a land of big box pretending to be small.. quirky.. individual.. They steal folks ideas and put them on sale for 4 bucks.
I used to walk through the aisles slowly, singularly, identifying all the things I would lovingly watch until that very.. last.. mark.. down - I could feel my fingers anticipating the feeling of triumph when I walked out of the third store I searched with a piece I love at 9.99 from 89.99. I would giggle identifying a designer piece they didn't even bother to change before swiping. There was an unlimited about of time. With that black and white reusable bag clutched in my hands, full of things, I would feel like "I win, time is free, I am free." Money was limited but time was not...I was rich...in time.
What happens though when you leave this moment to hope for the next? When this day is simply an impediment to the next, an impediment to where you need to be, an impediment to get what you need for you? It feels like you are sitting in a padded room with nothing to do (twiddle your thumbs) and at the very same time you are in the world working 15 hours shifts. Exhausted and yet completely removed from it all. Watching yourself spin crazily to complete deadline but only being aware when it's something that achieves a benchmark.
I thought about all of this as stood at the balcony of the UO for a while. They play the appropriate indy movie thoughtful moment music - which breaks me out of the reflection revelry with it's "it's just too perfect for the moment perfectness" and I head downstairs to the men's floor where they hide the good shoes that never go on sale.