In my world, there are simply not enough hours in the day right now.
Time rolls forward relentlessly at such a pace I can barely catch my breath. I work an average 80 hours a week, as does Simon, and so it goes on, and on, and on.
There is of course some point to all this madness, but that point is not to be laboured upon here, for frankly, it is simply too long winded and perhaps not all that interesting to most folk.
When time is short, it is precious, and precious things ought to be treated with the utmost consideration and valued for all they are worth. Time is indeed precious to us right now, as a family, as a couple, as individuals. Time together and time alone. It is the time alone that Simon and I struggle to find the most. When we are not working in the literal earning money sense, we are working as a family, caring for our home and brood and trying to enjoy quality family time. There is just not much left over at the end of it all for alone time.
All that said, I am learning that it is amazing how much one can achieve when time is against you. How much you can pack into a few hours or minutes. I am learning what is really important and what is quite insignificant.
Each week I am hit by a great wall of tiredness, each week it is greater than the last and just when you think, surely it cannot get any worse, it does, and yet we carry on, of course we must.
Winston Churchill said 'When you're going through hell, keep going' and really what choice do we have? You learn how strong you are when you are required to show strength. I realise I am rambling now, the end point is this. The more tired I become the more alive and capable I feel.
The less time I have the more I seek to find and eek out minutes here or there. In short, I am incredibly productive right now (by my own standards at least) and in some perverse way I actually relish the challenge of dragging my sorry arse out of bed each morning and telling myself that 'Today I am going to give a little bit more', I have to, and I do.
I have momentary lapses and minor meltdowns, sometimes I just head outside for a breath of fresh air and a sob, but carry on we must, and we do, Winston Churchill was a wise old bastard, wasn't he?
I came home last night at close to 10pm. I have felt a rising sense of frustration in recent weeks over the lack of me time, specifically time to create. I try and do a little each day, but as the great wall of tiredness has become greater, I have created less and less. Last night I came home and told tiredness to get bent. I came home and set up the sewing machine and silently began sewing bundles and bundles of strips. My time, precious time, I'll take it whenever I can. Sometimes sleep is overated.
So, I made a start on the Scraptacular Quilt, a good start, and then I slept like I have never slept before. Cried like a baby when the alarm clock rang out, and got up and did it all over again. Tonight, I am sewing some more, tomorrow I will cry like a baby again when the alarm goes off, and so it goes on... It's all good though, when your head hits the pillow and you mentally tick off the To Do lists and creep a little bit closer to the end goal, all the while enjoying the little victories against time, it feels oh so good.
When this madness is over, I will never take time for granted again. Oh no.