There is an ever ticking clock banging inside of my skull, sitting behind me with its horrendous clicking, reminding me that I am running out of time. I struggle against the flow of time as if there was anything I could do to stop it in its tracks. Each feels like a rush of not having enough time, wasting time, and worrying about where the time has gone and watching the sunset on yet another day. So much does time affect me, worrying about it, trying to obtain more of it, and stressing about wasting it, that sometimes I feel near mad.
As yet another year comes to a close, I am again sitting here wondering where it has all gone. It’s been a year since our family moved from South Carolina, to New York—a year of early intervention and speech services for my youngest boy, whom to date, at 28 months, is non-verbal.
A year of working with and training a service dog for the Tot, and a frustrating year of writing, or rather not getting enough writing and publishing done! I feel like I live in a mess of unfinished work, always longing to accomplish more.
This morning my husband reminded me of this year’s accomplishments—I’ve finished the first draft of book one, of a fictional series I am writing Blood of Angels—an urban fantasy series. However, the book I have in hand now is not what I began writing at the beginning of the year. In fact, it began as an entry in the main character’s grandmother’s journal, and took on a life of its own. It turned into an urban fantasy/paranormal historical romance hybrid of some sort. Good Grief, even the voices in my head are running away with my timetable and doing their own thing! But—first draft complete—yes, accomplishment. But but but but…there is so much more I want/ wanted to do!
I wish I could say that I had something insightful to offer—how to stop stressing over missed hours, or wasted minutes, but I do not. It’s something I struggle with daily, hourly, and minute to minute even now as I watch the clock in the corner of the computer screen to see how much time I am “wasting” typing my little frustrated rant, and wondering if I am crazy and alone in my plight.
Does anyone else have difficulty even enjoying accomplishments because they feel like they SHOULD be get more done? Does anyone else feel like they are constantly harassed, and stressed by the friggin clock? Is anyone else racing against time—constantly?