What became of the day

Where amongst the passing of the minutes did the morning give way to afternoon, until the day itself disappeared entirely?

I’ve spent a lot of time recently pondering what constitutes a good use of a day.

Yesterday, for instance, dragged by slowly. I was at work being plagued by a morning full of minor things going wrong that compounded into a general ill-feeling towards the world, a creeping negative sentiment that life sucks etc. It was by all accounts, a bad day.

I read something on the inter-web that postulated that there are no bad days. Rather, there are good days, great days and outstanding days. Yesterday, I didn’t feel that.

Today I filled the hours with bits and pieces of life.

I went for a walk, I cleaned the house a bit and played with my pets, then took a stroll to the coffee shop. I bought a book, had some lunch and read some. I went to the grocery store and the hardware store and came home for a cup of tea.

On my way I walked past an elderly man wearing an outfit all most exactly mirroring mine; grey trackies, baggy shirt, slip on shoes. In this brief encounter I realised how much of a pensioner I am.

Caught at an interesting cross roads where I work not much and study not much, my life resembles that of someone who has time to indulge in projects like gardening, cooking, idle strolling and plentiful cups of coffee. This is excellent. I have time on my side. And yet drummed in to my consciousness as if I was brought up in the army (something like that) is this niggling feeling that I am wasting mine and everyone’s time. Conclusion: must get more jobs.

And when that occurs, all I will wish for is that I had more time…