But, i think, if there were more hours in the day, then there would be no sense of urgency. As much as my ambitions outstrip my intent, and as much as i lament that i typically have too much energy to be contained within a simple 24-hour cycle, i know that if we just added two, or maybe four or five hours to the rotation then suddenly they’d each become that much more meaningless, like how i always make a trip to Borders on a day that i’ve earned overtime pay — not because i’m trying any less hard to save money than i was the day before, but because it’s harder to remember its value when it comes in a larger amount.
The 24 hours that we’ve got make me conscious of what i’m doing. Contemplating a re-read of all of this year’s lamentably edited Rolling Stone, i instead rerouted my attention to cracking open Atlas Shrugged for the first time; rather than sit down for a second daily helping of The Sims i tidied up my room and rehearsed for the impending fourth season of Trio. How else can i do all that i keep resolving to do, other than cutting out the things that i don’t?
I am convinced that those who claim “There just aren’t enough hours in the day” really need to be given a few less hours to work with for a week or two. After that they’d be fine.
[…] Last week my obligations, as if in cahoots with each other, all cancelled each other out. Between last Tuesday and this Monday i had a single class and worked for three hours, but for all intents and purposes i was off — with no responsibilities other than to myself. I hardly knew what to do with myself at the time, but i fell into a sort of rhythm: waking up a little late, doing something i had been meaning to do for months, playing guitar, running an errand, et cetera. Nothing of substance, just the things i would find the time to fit in if time were more hours in a day. […]