When I was in high school we had eight minutes between classes to visit our lockers, switch out our books, apply two or three more coats of flea market lip gloss in the very popular shade of “44,” chat with our friends, gossip in the hall, and then hightail it to the next period.
My high school had two buildings– the Annex and the Main. So if you had second period social studies in the Annex, followed by third period French in the Main, you had a post-gloss mad dash across the parking lot and up the stairs to actually make it before the second bell rang. (I wish I could have walked in and said to my teacher, “I’m dropping you like third period French.” This is one of my very favorite lines from the 2001 movie Ocean’s 11 when the two brothers were dissing each other before they competitively pit a monster truck against a toy truck on the racetrack and the monster truck sped up to run right over and crush the toy. (That quote still makes me laugh!)
Anyway, eight minutes was barely enough time to get from point A to point B, even if I skipped the critical beautification step. However, when there were a mere eight more minutes left in Mr. Diglio’s actual French class, it seemed like an absolute eternity! Une éternité! (Maybe we all learned something in those last critical eight minutes– Tracey, Michael, Roger, Jill, Aimee– anyone?? Yeah, I didn’t think so either. I picked up that gem from the boyfriend who is fluent!)
My perception and perspective on time hasn’t changed much during adulthood. Running to catch the 7:49am morning train out of Syosset was extremely stressful even though I timed the trip from home to be just about fourteen minutes. But having fourteen more minutes left of a pipeline meeting when I worked for a bank made me contemplate stabbing myself with the dull end of a ballpoint pen several times. We’ve all been in situations where waiting seemed to take forever, but the same amount of time spent racing to do something felt like that time was somehow compressed.
Remember when the cute little lion cub Simba sang, “I just can’t wait to be King!” in the Broadway musical The Lion King? “No one saying be there. No one saying stop that. No one saying see here.” Yep, he couldn’t wait to be King. When we are young we are always in a rush. We want to be old enough to wear makeup or stay out late, old enough to drive and be independent, to drink legally, to get into an R-rated movie without supervision, or to be old enough to vote. “I can’t wait to have my own money!” I remember screaming at my parents, anxious to make my own decisions following the old, “I pay so I say” rule which I detested. (I don’t think my son is that anxious to be removed from the parental payroll, but I do know that he is excited to get a job. He might still need to do a bit of work on his roar before he completely abandons the pride– but I know he can do it.)
Geology is the study of pressure and time. Just ask my friend Andy Dufrense who broke out of Shawshank Prison using a small rock hammer, 19 years of patient tunneling, and a pinup of Rita Hayworth. I bet he wasn’t watching the clock like I did in my pipeline meeting either. Can you imagine the patience it must have taken to tunnel for 19 years?? I know it was just a movie but work with me here. Still pretty incredible.
Having extra time is such a luxury! Vacation days, PTO, scheduled time off, holidays, floating holidays, community service days, snow days, retirement, and good ‘ol regular weekends– they are all great! Time just seems to be passing faster and faster and slower and slower these days if you know what I mean? The workday is exceptionally long with no water cooler chatter to break it up, and the weekends are just packed with trying to both relax and get stuff done simultaneously. We all want to use our time wisely.
As I said to my son before he left for college, make good choices, because you never get the time back, and college will be one of the greatest times in your life! (Ummm… I also whispered, “Whatever you do, don’t get caught, don’t do anything that gets you kicked out of school, and please don’t make me a Grandmother yet.”) My little cub just smiled, looked at his watch and said, “Mom, I think we’re all out of time for today! Thanks for playing. Have a safe trip home. I’ve got this.” Now his time in college is almost up and of course, he’s done great just like I knew he would. Although my time as an empty nester might be coming to a brief pause, I’ll still be thrilled for him to be home since I know the clock will be ticking for him to strike out on his own soon enough. And I’m not worried at all! Hakuna Matata, right? Ha.
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