Found Time
Yesterday at some point, I remember wishing for 'found time'. I think I was walking my dogs before leaving for school and I thought how nice it would be if class was cancelled. Up until that moment, I'd been looking forward to class so it wasn't like I was trying to avoid any kind of unpleasantness. I simply wanted something different than the expected, something unplanned for a change. Last night I wasn't so lucky. Tonight, however, I was. Rain all afternoon + outdoor tennis courts = cancelled tennis clinic = found time. Badda-boom, badda-bing.
As much as I want to hit and need to hit, I'm good with the cancellation. In truth, I probably need a night just to myself more than my tennis game needs Mike McVay's ring-ring drills (even though my psyche really likes the ring-ring drills). This isn't a decision I'd ever make for myself, but I'm glad for it regardless. Ahhh.... I'm free.
To do what? Christ. School work? Next week's reading? Research for that twenty pager due in a few weeks? 'Fun' reading? The gym? Mindless TV? After being consistently purposefully busy for weeks on end, I really have no idea what to do. Write. Yes. I've only posted once this month. I should write.
About what? Christ. Found time? Tennis Channel withdrawals? Blonds? My new-found inappropriate crush? It all sounds so boring and I'm not sure I can sustain a coherent thought for very long.
A Top Ten list then? Christ. I might get to five before mentally pooping out. I hate to set myself up for failure. Hmm... Maybe for once I'll go goal-free and do a However-Many-I-Get-To-List. It's not that I'm an underachiever. I just don't want to be tied down to writing all evening. It's my Found Time. I need to enjoy it to it's fullest because I don't know when it'll come along again.
Ok, let's see what this tired mind can well up. As usual in no order of importance...
1) I miss my Tennis Channel. Truly, there's nothing like the pop of tennis balls coming from the TV to keep me focused and working hard at my desk in the next room. I'm not going to disparage AT&T because I'm sure they had their reasons. I'm honestly more pissed at the other cable providers who want a twelve month commitment. I don't have twelve months. Our lease ends in five and I'm not sure where we'll go at that point. If anywhere. Regardless I'm going to have to figure this thing out or AT&T is going to have to re-think their decision. Not only do I miss the pop of the balls, but I miss the players. And dammit, I would LOVE to have seen how Sam Stosur, the first seed (and my fave rain or shine), managed to lose to someone ranked in the 120's in the Semis at Osaka last week. Ugh. This week she's the top seed again and I won't be able to see any of it. Blah.....
2) I have a crush on someone I shouldn't. Per usual, it's not going to go anywhere. This is probably 100% on her and an additional 100% on me. Still, I probably shouldn't be crushing on her. It's aggravating because she's just not my 'type'. Not that I have a 'type', but if I did she would never be it. Of course, that's not a bad thing. She's who she is and I like her. A friend of mine suggested that she is perhaps a 'template', God's way of opening my eyes to something I've never thought about before. Ok, I'll buy it. But... Before all that goes down, I probably should WANT a girlfriend.
3) I love my silent cell phone. I used to wait anxiously and excitedly for text messages. They were my one connection with the outside world and my confirmation that someone somewhere was thinking about me. Now after months of receding frequency, I'm down to two or three messages a day and I like it. Seriously. This from the woman who used to text all day long every day. Weird, I know. Now most of my texts are 'business' related - tennis, work, or school - and seldom turn into 'conversations'. A burden has been lifted and I feel uniquely free. I don't have to check my phone constantly in the hopes that someone will have texted me or texted me back. Silence is a wonderful thing.
4) I (still) suck at art. This is far from new information, but confirmation is rarely a bad thing. Last night my humanities survey class met in the Fine Arts building where, in our quest to discover what it means to be human, we considered the body at rest. And naked. After being treated to an art history lecture about the evolution of the 'nude', we were given an art lesson and had the opportunity to sketch a live model. I came away with three conclusions - (a) I (still) suck at art, (b) I don't like art, and (c) women's bodies aren't very attractive. How much do I hate art? I wrote a poem during the final fifteen minute 'free drawing' period. Hey, I tried but, like golf, I fear I will never have an appropriate appreciation or ability. I'm not sad about it.
5) I eat a donut every Sunday. One of my co-workers brings them in and, without fail, I thoroughly enjoy one. And without fail, someone gives me crap about it. You eat donuts, Stacee? Do you know how bad those are for you? Donuts make you fat. Donuts this... Donuts that... Donuts may be many things but they are not the devil's handiwork or a sign of the Apocalypse. Additionally, contrary to popular belief, one donut will not cause a butt to get bigger. When will people learn moderation? I can be as addicted as anyone, but I know how to live in moderation. Moderation means everything is ok once in awhile or even once a week. About my weekly donut, I plan for it and leverage my calories around it. It's not like I eat donuts for breakfast every morning and swear I'll never gain a pound. I eat a donut once a week. On Sunday. If I'm scheduled. Hey, Diet Fascists... Loosen up and enjoy life a little more. Or at the very least, take your guilt trip elsewhere.
Time to move on. Found time is finite and I can't spend all of it writing. God knows when I'll get this kind of time again. With that, I'm out.
As much as I want to hit and need to hit, I'm good with the cancellation. In truth, I probably need a night just to myself more than my tennis game needs Mike McVay's ring-ring drills (even though my psyche really likes the ring-ring drills). This isn't a decision I'd ever make for myself, but I'm glad for it regardless. Ahhh.... I'm free.
To do what? Christ. School work? Next week's reading? Research for that twenty pager due in a few weeks? 'Fun' reading? The gym? Mindless TV? After being consistently purposefully busy for weeks on end, I really have no idea what to do. Write. Yes. I've only posted once this month. I should write.
About what? Christ. Found time? Tennis Channel withdrawals? Blonds? My new-found inappropriate crush? It all sounds so boring and I'm not sure I can sustain a coherent thought for very long.
A Top Ten list then? Christ. I might get to five before mentally pooping out. I hate to set myself up for failure. Hmm... Maybe for once I'll go goal-free and do a However-Many-I-Get-To-List. It's not that I'm an underachiever. I just don't want to be tied down to writing all evening. It's my Found Time. I need to enjoy it to it's fullest because I don't know when it'll come along again.
Ok, let's see what this tired mind can well up. As usual in no order of importance...
1) I miss my Tennis Channel. Truly, there's nothing like the pop of tennis balls coming from the TV to keep me focused and working hard at my desk in the next room. I'm not going to disparage AT&T because I'm sure they had their reasons. I'm honestly more pissed at the other cable providers who want a twelve month commitment. I don't have twelve months. Our lease ends in five and I'm not sure where we'll go at that point. If anywhere. Regardless I'm going to have to figure this thing out or AT&T is going to have to re-think their decision. Not only do I miss the pop of the balls, but I miss the players. And dammit, I would LOVE to have seen how Sam Stosur, the first seed (and my fave rain or shine), managed to lose to someone ranked in the 120's in the Semis at Osaka last week. Ugh. This week she's the top seed again and I won't be able to see any of it. Blah.....
2) I have a crush on someone I shouldn't. Per usual, it's not going to go anywhere. This is probably 100% on her and an additional 100% on me. Still, I probably shouldn't be crushing on her. It's aggravating because she's just not my 'type'. Not that I have a 'type', but if I did she would never be it. Of course, that's not a bad thing. She's who she is and I like her. A friend of mine suggested that she is perhaps a 'template', God's way of opening my eyes to something I've never thought about before. Ok, I'll buy it. But... Before all that goes down, I probably should WANT a girlfriend.
3) I love my silent cell phone. I used to wait anxiously and excitedly for text messages. They were my one connection with the outside world and my confirmation that someone somewhere was thinking about me. Now after months of receding frequency, I'm down to two or three messages a day and I like it. Seriously. This from the woman who used to text all day long every day. Weird, I know. Now most of my texts are 'business' related - tennis, work, or school - and seldom turn into 'conversations'. A burden has been lifted and I feel uniquely free. I don't have to check my phone constantly in the hopes that someone will have texted me or texted me back. Silence is a wonderful thing.
4) I (still) suck at art. This is far from new information, but confirmation is rarely a bad thing. Last night my humanities survey class met in the Fine Arts building where, in our quest to discover what it means to be human, we considered the body at rest. And naked. After being treated to an art history lecture about the evolution of the 'nude', we were given an art lesson and had the opportunity to sketch a live model. I came away with three conclusions - (a) I (still) suck at art, (b) I don't like art, and (c) women's bodies aren't very attractive. How much do I hate art? I wrote a poem during the final fifteen minute 'free drawing' period. Hey, I tried but, like golf, I fear I will never have an appropriate appreciation or ability. I'm not sad about it.
5) I eat a donut every Sunday. One of my co-workers brings them in and, without fail, I thoroughly enjoy one. And without fail, someone gives me crap about it. You eat donuts, Stacee? Do you know how bad those are for you? Donuts make you fat. Donuts this... Donuts that... Donuts may be many things but they are not the devil's handiwork or a sign of the Apocalypse. Additionally, contrary to popular belief, one donut will not cause a butt to get bigger. When will people learn moderation? I can be as addicted as anyone, but I know how to live in moderation. Moderation means everything is ok once in awhile or even once a week. About my weekly donut, I plan for it and leverage my calories around it. It's not like I eat donuts for breakfast every morning and swear I'll never gain a pound. I eat a donut once a week. On Sunday. If I'm scheduled. Hey, Diet Fascists... Loosen up and enjoy life a little more. Or at the very least, take your guilt trip elsewhere.
Time to move on. Found time is finite and I can't spend all of it writing. God knows when I'll get this kind of time again. With that, I'm out.
Comments
Post a Comment