Time Warp
A weird thing happened last night.
The Child had stayed at school until 4 so, after dropping off our car pool kid, we got home around 4:30. Then I fooled around on the computer for a while before going out to the hardware store to pick up a couple of plants. The Child is doing an experiment for the upcoming science fair; she's doing the classic "take two identical plants, give them identical care but subject one to rock 'n roll and the other to classical music and see if it makes any difference in how they grow" experiment. (How classic, you ask? I did the same bloody thing when I was her age). Her hypothesis is that it won't make a lick of difference. Anyway, I go get her plants and come home to start dinner, only to realize that the glaze for the ribs required an orange and we were out. Off to the co-op for a very expensive organic orange, which for $1.13 should squeeze itself, thank you very much.
Back home I look at the clock and start panicking because I'm now running super far behind and that's going to seriously compromise the mandatory Thursday night TV viewing.
I rush around finishing up dinner while The Child gets all excited to eat by herself watching TV in our bedroom (because your shows aren't appropriate for me, are they, Mom"?...which is true but really she just wanted to eat without us for a change). Dinner is finished up, right before the hour (thank heaven for convection heat) and everyone is called together so we can at least say grace as a family. Then The Spouse says, "You know, it's only 7".
I look at the clock in shock (tee! that rhymes) and sure enough, we're right on schedule. In the end, we ate together properly like a family that has its priorities straight and I felt very silly and smug at the same time.
It reminded me of a morning, long before The Spouse, when I woke up in a frenzy because my alarm hadn't gone off. The sun was shining brilliantly through the window which meant I was super late for work. I scrambled up and got ready in a mad rush (taking time to still make coffee because starting a day that late, with all it entailed, still required sufficient caffeine). I lived about a 10 minute walk through an actual park to my office. I scampered out onto the street, walking in that measured run sort of way that allowed for the gaining of the optimal amount of ground without actually breaking a sweat or falling out of my pumps. It was a beautiful spring morning and I remember wishing there was time to enjoy all the budding things around me.
The streets and sidewalks were oddly quiet. I had the eerie sense that some disaster had befallen and I was the last to know. There was a light sprinkling of businessmen around and I began sizing them up, you know, in case we were the remnant and had to repopulate the earth.
I got to my building and the door wouldn't open. It was locked. I peered in through the glass. No doorman. This was getting creepy. I used my card key and entered the silent, echoing lobby. No one else was in the elevator, so not the case on a weekday morning. I got to my office, which was also locked and dark. Only then did I think to look at my watch. It was 7 a.m.
It's sort of nice when that happens. It's like getting a whole extra hour that you didn't think you had. Time really is relative, isn't it?
And now, what with another blockbuster weekend coming over at Here's the 80s", I'm getting into VJ mode and will now offer you some songs about time. Have fun.
"Time of Your Life (Good Riddance)"
"Only Time"
Oh, of course...like you didn't see this coming all the way from Tacoma.
"Time Warp"
The Child had stayed at school until 4 so, after dropping off our car pool kid, we got home around 4:30. Then I fooled around on the computer for a while before going out to the hardware store to pick up a couple of plants. The Child is doing an experiment for the upcoming science fair; she's doing the classic "take two identical plants, give them identical care but subject one to rock 'n roll and the other to classical music and see if it makes any difference in how they grow" experiment. (How classic, you ask? I did the same bloody thing when I was her age). Her hypothesis is that it won't make a lick of difference. Anyway, I go get her plants and come home to start dinner, only to realize that the glaze for the ribs required an orange and we were out. Off to the co-op for a very expensive organic orange, which for $1.13 should squeeze itself, thank you very much.
Back home I look at the clock and start panicking because I'm now running super far behind and that's going to seriously compromise the mandatory Thursday night TV viewing.
I rush around finishing up dinner while The Child gets all excited to eat by herself watching TV in our bedroom (because your shows aren't appropriate for me, are they, Mom"?...which is true but really she just wanted to eat without us for a change). Dinner is finished up, right before the hour (thank heaven for convection heat) and everyone is called together so we can at least say grace as a family. Then The Spouse says, "You know, it's only 7".
I look at the clock in shock (tee! that rhymes) and sure enough, we're right on schedule. In the end, we ate together properly like a family that has its priorities straight and I felt very silly and smug at the same time.
It reminded me of a morning, long before The Spouse, when I woke up in a frenzy because my alarm hadn't gone off. The sun was shining brilliantly through the window which meant I was super late for work. I scrambled up and got ready in a mad rush (taking time to still make coffee because starting a day that late, with all it entailed, still required sufficient caffeine). I lived about a 10 minute walk through an actual park to my office. I scampered out onto the street, walking in that measured run sort of way that allowed for the gaining of the optimal amount of ground without actually breaking a sweat or falling out of my pumps. It was a beautiful spring morning and I remember wishing there was time to enjoy all the budding things around me.
The streets and sidewalks were oddly quiet. I had the eerie sense that some disaster had befallen and I was the last to know. There was a light sprinkling of businessmen around and I began sizing them up, you know, in case we were the remnant and had to repopulate the earth.
I got to my building and the door wouldn't open. It was locked. I peered in through the glass. No doorman. This was getting creepy. I used my card key and entered the silent, echoing lobby. No one else was in the elevator, so not the case on a weekday morning. I got to my office, which was also locked and dark. Only then did I think to look at my watch. It was 7 a.m.
It's sort of nice when that happens. It's like getting a whole extra hour that you didn't think you had. Time really is relative, isn't it?
And now, what with another blockbuster weekend coming over at Here's the 80s", I'm getting into VJ mode and will now offer you some songs about time. Have fun.
"Time of Your Life (Good Riddance)"
"Only Time"
Oh, of course...like you didn't see this coming all the way from Tacoma.
"Time Warp"
Labels: boycott Viacom, coffee, Here's the 80s, I no longer wear a watch btw, time, warps
cobbled together by Moi at 11:32 AM
7 Comments:
That has never happened to me. Usually I think I'm on time, but I'm late.
Or I'll know that I'm late, only to discover that I'm really, really, really late.
Oh, and don't forget that it's just a jump to the left.
As JP notes, time warps are fabulous when you're early.
One time I got to work before the guy who runs the coffee stand. That was freaky.
I did a pelvic thru-u-u-ust that nearly drove 'em insa-a-a-ane ...
Very well written and very real.
JP: That explains why I'm always the first one to production meetings. Oh. And then a step to the ri-i-ght.
Red: We have a strict no-frightening of the baristas policy around here.
Iwanski: Thank you, sir. At least today I tried.
"The streets and sidewalks were oddly quiet. I had the eerie sense that some disaster had befallen and I was the last to know. There was a light sprinkling of businessmen around and I began sizing them up, you know, in case we were the remnant and had to repopulate the earth."..
Is this something that women do??..Because,I always figured they were thinking I wanted to snatch their purse.
I'm always late, except for important stuff, but even then, I'm usually running in at the last possible moment. The Spouse is the total opposite. He likes to be 30 minutes early everywhere. I'm sure you can imagine what it's like around our house a lot of the time.
So, is it just me, or has Viacom struck Veoh too? Every video gives me a "Sorry! The video you requested is unavailable" error.
PS - Blogger hates me. It refuses to show my the verification letters so I can't post this comment, no matter which of three browsers I use. I'm going to cry.
PSS - this morning, from home, all is well. Now I don't know if it was my connection at work, or Blogger. Easier to blame blogger, right?
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