I had a day off on Tuesday, and for a moment I was paralysed. There was so much I wanted to do! Not concrete plans like a day trip to the seaside or even a film I wanted to catch at the cinema (I can't remember a time when I've been less inspired by the choice of movies on release). Some of it was just basic household chores - washing a blanket, cleaning the mildew from the porch. I knew I wanted to go for a walk as it was such a beautiful day - but where? Then there was my proofreading course, I really needed to sit down and do some more on that. Obviously there's about a million things I want to write too, not to mention all the books I have stacked up to read, a few weeks' worth of TV shows on the recorder, a bunch of CDs I haven't had time to listen to yet... the list goes on and on.
I've reached the point in my life where time seems to be speeding up and getting away from me. This hit me for another reason recently. I was looking at all the books on my bookcases, so many of which I'm keeping to read again "at a later date". Yet how often do I actually get the chance to reread old books - even firm favourites? Maybe once or twice a year. The rest of the time, I've always got something new to devour. The same goes for music. One of the reasons I force myself to compile those top ten music lists is that it makes me go back and rediscover random gems from my record collection I might otherwise forget all about.
This is all to do with growing old. When you're younger, even in your twenties, time stretches ahead of you like an endless motorway. There'll always be time to do all the things you want to do - in the future. How often do we put things off when we're young because there's always tomorrow? An infinity of tomorrows. I wrote earlier about how much time I wasted in my youth watching shit TV. I mean really shit TV. Even shitter than Knight Rider and Manimal. Not even enjoyably shit TV. Nowadays, TV shows have to have real value for me to bother with them - or else I have to be doing something else at the same time (making the tea, ironing etc.) so I don't feel like I'm squandering my time. Because it's just too valuable to waste when there's so much you want to do... and the clock's always ticking.
The ironic thing is, you only realise this as you get older. But I'm only 38, and maybe I've realised it younger than many. Time is limited, and there's so much to do. I'm going to try not to waste so much of it in future. Now if only I didn't have to waste so much of it at work...
