And see the sands go slip, slip, slipping
Down the hourglass?
And see the colors of the leaves changing
And see the faces of your friends aging
And feel the spin of the world turning
On and on and on�

As usual, the end of the year gets me thinking about time. It�s either, �Damn, where�d the time go?� or �Good riddance! Glad that year is finally over.�

What I�m feeling now though is � restless.

There�s just got to be more to the rest of my life than this, right? Let�s consider my life for a bit:

7:30 a.m. � Andy wakes up.

8 a.m. � Andy wakes up, again.

9 a.m. � The St. Ignatius church bells wake Andy up for the final time, screaming in their dulcet voices that Andy is late for work. Again.

9:47 a.m. � Having showered and rolled into the first set of not-necessarily-matching clean clothing Andy could put her hands on, Andy gets in her car and drives like a trucker with a bad case of the burning runs to Jo�s. May the sun always shine on that coffee shop.

10-ish a.m. � Andy gets to the office more-or-less ready to work and wishes for the umpteenth time that she was the kind of depressed person who liked to bury themselves in their work.

7 p.m. � Andy finishes 8 hours of work that probably should�ve taken 3 hours to do. (Andy has perfected the art of Looking Busy.)

7 - midnight � It�s all a blur. Honest to God, I can�t tell you what takes up so much of my time. I might go to the gym for an hour, take some time to hunt for dinner, watch an hour or two of my favorite TV, pay bills ...

Midnight - 2 a.m. � Andy tries every trick she knows to fall asleep. Andy takes her makes-you-drowsy allergy medication. Andy grabs a boring book. Andy listens to the radio in the dark. Andy takes a valerian root tab. Andy thinks happy thoughts. Andy � zzz.

5-ish a.m. � Andy wakes up. It�s dark, so Andy rolls over and tries to convince her psyche that it should go back to sleep.

6-ish a.m. � Andy wakes in a panic. The sun�s up, but the alarm hasn�t gone off. Is she late? Andy checks the alarm. It�s barely f*cking dawn. Brilliant. The bruises under Andy�s eyes are going to match perfectly with her black blazer.

7 a.m. � Andy falls asleep, again.

7:30 a.m. � The alarm wakes Andy up. �

I�m trying to find things to do. I took a quilting class. I�m thinking of taking a French class in preparation for a trip to West Africa to visit mon ami stationed in the Peace Corps there. I�m spending more time at the gym. I�ve got this journal. I�m writing again. Etc.

Still, even now as I type this, I hear the clock ticking on the wall, mocking me. As the second hand marches in circles, it orders, �Go. Go. Go. Go. Go. Go. Go. �� But where? To do what? I look at the clock face for answers, but all it does it shoot me the bird. Ugh, time to get ready for bed.

---

other Austin stories	all my yesterdays	about me	send to a friend	e-mail andy
Get emailed when I update! Enter your email address: Powered by NotifyList.com Diaryland