I hate to even open those emails. I know it's silly, but it seems unfair to winter to open them. Like I'm cheating with Spring - whose been openly flirting! - and everyone knows about it but Winter. But Winter doesn't get its share. We've gotten where, just like everything else, we rush through it in order to welcome in those warmer, languid, stretch-out-and-bask days leading into summer as if they're of more value than the darker nights and colder days that precede it. For me, I noticed it years ago with retail stores began moving in Halloween items directly after Labor Day, and Valentines Day stuff directly on the heels of Christmas.
We rush a lot of things actually. I was thinking about this on my drive home yesterday afternoon from meeting a client. It's Sunday afternoon, and I'm on the freeway mentally trying to figure our if I can reroute my drive to shave off 10 minutes. I didn't have a ton of work to get home to, nor was I particularly overbooked for the day. Traffic wasn't heavy, and the roads were clean and dry. I had a few errands to run when I got back to town, but was Sunday; nowhere I had to be until Monday morning at 8:00 a.m. All those years with the boys at home making sure they were awake on time, at the bus stop on time, home from school, at baseball and soccer practice, in bed...and when they weren't home, how much time I had to get the house cleaned, the laundry done, the dinner made, before they were. All of it, years of it, revolving around the clock and how much time I had to get them from one place to the next or how much time I had in between. Now it's years later and I still find that I live my life taking the shortest routes and not really experiencing the drive.
Working two jobs I still live by the clock, and time is precious, as every minute I waste is a minute that will be cut from my allotted and all-too-short sleeping time at the end of the day. I'm actually afraid of what will happen come the end of this year, a self-imposed deadline in which I will be required to pick one job and stick with it. My Person is becoming more and more disenfranchised with seeing nothing more than my back of an evening as he walks by my home office, oftentimes going to bed alone as I work into the wee hours. He says he sees even less of me since I moved in. I argue that he sees more of me now; he can see me working whereas he couldn't see me working before when I lived at my own place.
Going back to being afraid. I don't know if I'll remember how to just sit and read a magazine or watch TV. What if I get bored? What if he gets bored with me? Which job should I choose: the one that pays the most, or the one that requires me to be up by 6:30 and to the office by 8? What if I make the wrong decision? What if I find I can't handle the time I have all to myself? Too much time...?
But enough about me...
Every new season is my favorite when it begins. By August, I'm tired of the long hot days of summer and looking forward to the aspens changing on the mountain and the bright crisp taste of the years' first apples. When winter comes, I'm looking forward to the shorter days and longer nights, wearing thick sweaters with jeans on the weekends, and pulling out those looonnng boxes containing my favorite high-heeled boots that feel almost new again it's been so long since I've worn them. In Spring, I'm excited by the new shoots of grass when I'm outside playing with the dog, and watching the birds build their nest outside my office window on top of the curtains we have hanging on the deck, knowing that another summer is going to go by without being able to use them because I forgot to take them down while the birds were house hunting.
So I guess I have found one thing I'm not rushing...