Where oh where does the time go?

Where does my time go??

At the end of the day when my to do list still has ten items left without a line through them, I constantly try to justify why I didn't have time to do everything. The list usually makes me feel guilty because I still didn't write thank you notes from Christmas, haven't emailed my mom for a week, and still haven't started reorganizing Asher's closet.

For my own sanity and because I just like to do research, I decided to start a log recording my activity every 10 minutes. This is my fourth day of analyzing how I spend my time and I'm actually not too surprised at my findings.

1. I've confirmed that I do take a lot of mini-breaks to check email, read blog posts, and check for new Facebook friends.

2. After I put Asher to sleep at night, around 8:00, my energy to even record what I'm doing next is zapped.

3. When Asher is awake, I have a hard time recording what I am doing because it switches minute by minute from eating breakfast to getting dressed to eat more breakfast to go potty to gather water cup for school to write check for school to clean up breakfast... Doing something for more than 10 minutes only happens when we are out of the house or Asher is "sleeping."

I'm not exactly sure what I'll do with the findings of my little research project. But it does make me more anxious to live outside of time. I forget where, but I recently read thoughts from C.S. Lewis about time. His basic idea is that we were created to live outside of time.which is why its so hard for us to grasp the passing of it.

We are eternal beings and it is not natural for us to be confined by time. He suggests this is why time never feels right to us. We are either saying Where did the time go? or When will this season of life finally be over? Time rarely seems to be ticking by just as it should be. It's always too fast or too slow.

Asher is obsessed with clocks and time, but he always wants to judge the passing of time by the clock on his tool set which never moves without human intervention. He promises me he will come get dressed when the clock on his tools gets to the four or maybe the eleventeen.

If only all clocks could tick-tock just as we dictate.