What if I run out of time?
There a lot of things I want to do, but I’m not ready yet. It’s not the right time or I lack experience. Things take time, work. I know, but how much time do I have? See things would be easier, I would be able to plan, if I had some idea of what I was working with.
If I’m going to make it to eighty then yeah, I have some time. If I knew that for sure then I would relax a bit, maybe even add some extra color. But, if I’m only going to make it to fifty, I really need to get going, pare my things down.
Sort of like doing laundry before a trip. Sure, I would like all of the laundry clean and put away before I pack, but if I’m in a rush, ideal goes out the window. I switch to quick wash, worn once fluff in the dryer, concessions are made because the plane is taking off and I should be in clothes.
I need to know when my plane is going to leave for the last time. Should I finish up folding my sweaters just so and choose the right earrings, or should I just throw things in a bag and be happy that I have earrings on at all?
There are those that would say, “Live every day like it’s your last.” That makes no sense to me. My last day, how can I possibly live every day like it’s my last? What if I live another forty years?
My children would get sick of me staring at them every day, hugging them, smelling them. My mother has things to do, she can’t always be in the movie theatre with me. Michael has to work, he has a life. We can just sit around on the back patio kissing away the sunset. That’s not productive, can’t be done every day.
See, this is why I need a timeframe. I’ll make it work. I’ll be ready, at the airport on time, but this uncertainly is really making it hard to pack.
My thoughts from the laundry room. Set The Alarm.