When we recently set the clocks to standard time, my husband accused me of being “An Hour Squanderer” because I took a perfectly good hour- an hour that we could have spent planting garlic, stacking wood or making the love (Sure. I would have gone for making the love but I stopped listening before he got to “garlic”) and, instead, wasted it by:
sleeping: 36 minutes
talking on the phone: 12 minutes
reading a WSJ article about the new Tom Waits CD (an even more insulting waste of time because “Tom Waits hasn’t been interesting in 20 years”): 10 minutes
enjoying a Reese’s peanut butter cup: 1 minute
and,
feeling bad about it (it was early. In my defense, it felt like 9:30AM): 1 minute.
It’s all that Halloween candy lying around. After it sits on the counter for a while, it begins to take on the role of fruit bowl and one feels virtuous in selecting a piece (or seven).
I counter spouse’s assertion and contend that I am a “Time Warrior” due to my ability to recognize time wasters and circumvent them.
Like just there- in the previous paragraph. I could have used way more words to describe how having a 13-year-old who dawdles then hurries when getting ready for school in the morning ultimately takes longer which is why I must yell a full 5 minutes before we have to leave (for a full 5 minutes), or how being married to a guy who insists on arriving early for everything- not just concerts- but flights, dentist appointments and surgery too, ends up wasting time because we inevitably sit in some nondescript holding tank where I am forced to sigh and mutter- a lot. And fidget. Captain Punctual’s rigidity often results in my having to fidget as if I will never, ever be comfortable again all because I could have been home pairing socks instead of sitting here. (Mind you, I don’t pair socks. We go by thickness in our house. But still.)
So I saved 157 words (see above) and said what needed to be said and I was succinct: “this sucks.” Two words. A time saver. Brought to you by “The Time Warrior.”
P.S.: You’re welcome.
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