Anthony vs. The Ticking of Clocks

Have you ever noticed that Sunday (or your "weekend equivalent") is the shortest day of the week? It's the one day that if you blink, boom, it's gone. Tuesday is eternal. Wednesday drags like a dead llama. But Sunday, Sunday is here and gone in three breaths. And I've noticed that the older I get, the shorter it gets.

I recall a while ago (dear, Lord, it's been so long) when Sunday was a nice long day. I'd wake up in the early afternoon on The-Man-Formerly-Known-As-The-Go-Go-Box-Whore's couch after staying out far too late dancing, drinking, making out with various randy womenfolks, watching movies and eating until the wee hours, and laughing my ass off. It'd be great. We'd get up, maybe grab some food and then I'd get a ride home. And it'd still be sunlight out. There'd still be time for a hockey game or two.

These days, it's far too different.

I get to bed about the same time, if not earlier, having only been hanging out with family, or reading, or watching movies by my lonesome, Moon River or You're Nobody Til Somebody Loves You blaring from the TV--the DVD still spinning a flick. And when I get up, it's 11 a.m., or 1 p.m. or even worse 2:30 p.m. I wake up tired, more exhausted then if I'd just stayed up partying all night. No hang over here, just pure emotional exhaustion. Tired. And then I go and look in the bathroom, wash my face, eat a bite, and maybe go online for a second, and --BLAM-- the sun's gone down and it's 6:00 p.m.

Heaven help me if I go and visit someone, talk and hang out.

There is no time. For hanging out, for writing, for sleeping, for spending time with my family, for watching movies, for journaling (OH, look, the time just jumped again), for eating, for reading, for driving, for taking a dump, for cleaning my room, for helping out in the yard, for excercise, for travel, for watching sunsets...

...I really miss watching sunsets...

There is no time for sanity maintanence. No...no, I'm wrong there...this is often accomplished by staring off into space, and thinking about lost opportunities, about chances still to be taken.

Because sometimes I combine things, like reading and eating, driving and thinking, I get to fiddle with these thoughts in my head.

IN OTHER NEWS...the clock is ticking, counting down, moving forward. I've got four days until I get on a plane, fly to London for the first time, and then see a bunch of friends and watch another get married (I'm looking at you mister havenstone). And I'm looking forward to seeing another of my friends (with whom I've imbibed lots of booze and sang songs about womenfolks--we sing songs that remind us of the good times, we sing songs that remind us of the best times--and compared trenchcoats beard lengths).

It will rock. Wedding. Friends...and DUDE--LONDON...Even if it's only for three nights, two days.

I'd stay longer, but I don't have enough time.