I love time; or more importantly the illusion of time.
I like the feeling of having time: excess time, squandering time, puttering time.
I go to work early, so I don’t feel rushed. I always have plenty of time, but I do it anyway.
I enjoy going to bed knowing I have a lot of free time in the morning to sleep in. I never do, but the feeling comforts me.
I love open ended vacations: just go until the money or myself runs out. Before a short holiday, the sense of not enough time looms large. I usually come back satisfied that I did everything I wanted to, but the “not enough time” feeling returns while thinking about the next short holiday.
I plan for a day off once I’m back from a short holiday too. I might really have nothing to do but laundry; but I need it anyway.
Maybe I stay away from doctors because I want to keep the ultimate illusion of having time: time to do everything.
Maybe I just don’t like doctors.
Time is great; but for me, the illusion of time is better.
It’s the illusion that keeps me ticking most days.
note: I’m on a few of my “squandering time” days at the moment. I have a few more planned before I go back to work.
double note: I don’t think I’m going to like growing old very much. There won’t be enough time to do it. But I hope I get the chance to do it anyway.