Busy Day Today

I rose relatively late today, at 7. Then I dressed and drove the SO to work. I killed twenty minutes (which died with a whining sound like a small swarm of mosquitos) at a coffee counter, overdosing my body with caffeine and over-informing my mind with a newspaper.

Then I went to one of my all-time favourite stores. It sells (what else) British Auto Parts, particularly for older Brit Cars. Of course, given what was state-of-the-art for old British Cars (Why do the Brits drink warm beer? Because Lucas makes refrigerators, too) such shops have an arcane look to them--they're only one step away from having long, stringy, sputtering dribbly candles, burping glassware bearing green bubbling fluids, and mysterious stuffed creatures in odd corners; the mechanic as alchemist. British cars require the owner to be a metallurgist, chemist, machinist, and a serious optimist.

The owner's SO is often required to be a psychiatrist.

From auto parts to the mundane business of monthly life, paying for storage of a bunch of old furniture that the SO and I keep saying we're going to get rid of. It's costing me roughly the value of the contents every month, but I don't complain. Yet.

Then off to exercise. . .ugh. Hate that word. Today I alternated walking and running on the local high-school track. Since school's out there were no cheerleaders practicing, so so much for motivation. I went about 3.2 km without vomiting. A triumph for anyone with my build, I assure you.

Home to shower and change, then to seat myself before the computer and make my latest foray into the world of seeking gainful employment. In an amazing burst of productivity I mail off three well-written applications inside and hour-and-a-half. Then, distracted by something or other, I hit my guitar for an hour or so.

So why am I relating all these fascinating minutae? Well it has to do with my new theory of time: Have you ever noticed that the busier you are, the less time you have? I mean, on Friday I did nothing much and was bored silly. Today I've been so busy the day has just flown by.

It's true. Conversely, when you have nothing to do, time dr-a-a-a-gs on for-flippin'-ever.

Time is obviously a finite resource: We are all issued a certain amount of it at birth--and it's the same amount. It's just that those who keep themselves busy use it all up first.

There is no better proof of this than the enormous number of immensely busy people who drop dead of heart attacks in their forties or early fifties. I mean, they obviously ran right out of time.

So as a responsible person who's sorta into conservation, I'm going to dedicate myself to doing as little as possible, therefore using my time as efficiently as physics will allow.

I mean, it's mathematical: Consider this. If you have three tasks to do in three hours, you have 3 hours ÷ 3 tasks = 1 hour per task. But if you have NO tasks and 3 hours, you get 3 hours ÷ 0 tasks = ∞!

So I have to stop blogging now.

Once you've saved the Nauga, help here.