Watching the Clock

Time.  That’s the prompt from Kate Motaung at Five Minute Friday where we write for five minutes and post, without editing or over-thinking.  Ha!  Me?  I’m the queen of overthinking.  Watch this!

Time. My grandma used to say a watched pot never boils. Watching a clock is even worse.

Time. My grandma used to say a watched pot never boils. Watching a clock is even worse.

Time.  I roll over yet again and glare at the clock.  It’s only a couple of minutes past 11:00. I had tried to get to bed earlier than at times this week because I’m so tired and here I am still awake. I could still be asleep before 11:30 and I have so much to do.  My mind replays the parent-teacher meeting (me the teacher, her the parent) which takes my mind to another parent-teacher meeting (him the teacher, me the parent).  I replay that for a bit, because that’s what I do.  My mind races through what I need to do and what he needs to do.

Time.  11:10.  It’s hot in here.  I roll back the covers, trying not to disturb my sleeping husband and begin to make a list of what I have to complete in the bathroom overhaul tomorrow.  As the list grows so does my restlessness.

Time.  11:20.  Bathroom break.  I stretch my legs that are doing that twitching thing that happens when I’m so tired.  Man, I wish I could think of what to write for FMF.  I’m hungry.  Nope.  Back to bed.  My mind replays (without permission) the death of a little boy from cancer and spins out of control to my own little boy who beat cancer but still fights left-over battles that started way back then.

Time.  11:40.  Grr!  I hate this watching the clock thing.  I will my eyes closed and picture a tropical island with a freshwater waterfall and pond where there are no jobs but to pick bananas, swim in the surf and watch the sunset from under a palm tree.  Doesn’t work because that reminds me I didn’t water the plants at school and I don’t teach tomorrow which means they’ll go all weekend.

Time.  Oh.My.Word.  It’s 12:00.  Again.  It’s the third night in a row that I cannot shut my brain down.  I glare at the stupid clock again.  My mind jumps across all my children and monitors their lives and wonders what I should be doing as a mom to facilitate in the best direction.  From there worries reappear (even though I have amazing children) and the mind skips to money Do you realize that in 3 years I won’t have any children at home?  Well, that’s assuming they keep up the directions they’re heading.  What if they don’t?

Time.  Who in the world though of the word Time as a writing prompt.  There is nothing to say about time that hasn’t already been said.  Time in a bottle.  Tick-tock.  Sunrise, sunset.  There is a time for everything.  Blink and they’re gone.  Time.  12:32.

Time:  I wish I’d had more time with Dad.  I always wanted to travel back with him to his hometown of Boston and have him show me around the tenements where he grew up and I always wanted to take the stories I grew up hearing and write them down and hand a book to him as a gift and have him read it and be amazed that I could remember those details.  But I waited.  I waited so long that even had I written it, he no longer remembered the stories.  No more time with Dad.

Time.  12:54.  This is just wrong.  I should relax in my savior and I should be able to set my mind at rest and determine to go to sleep.  It’s cold in here.  Bathroom break, more leg stretches.  I need to start exercising.  I giggle to myself.  Probably not at 1:00 a.m.  Maybe tomorrow after I sand the bathroom.

Time.  If only I could think of something to write.  Something profound.  Remember when time didn’t matter and all I had to do was sit up in my beautiful sycamore tree and watch the world go by below or watch a world develop in my book?  Remember when I could dig in the dirt and laugh with my friends and my worst job in the whole wide world was picking up after the dog?

Time.  1:40.  Lord.  I need sleep.  I have so much to do.  I also need to write but I’m too tired.  Time. Lord, isn’t it time for you to just come?  Of all the “Time” subjects I can possibly think of or write about, that’s the one.  No more sorrow, no more death.  Time with those I love.  Time with Jesus.  Time to relax and time to rest with my Savior.

Time….

Time…

Tim…

Ti…

T…

Lord, isn't it time for you to just come? #FMF #time via@caregivermom Click To Tweet

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  • Carol you and me. Sometimes the sleep just won’t come. Usually it’s like now, I’ve slept and wake up (except tonight I’m still on Missouri time– were neighbors in real life too hehehe) so my body says it’s time to rise and shine even though the clock says 4:30 am.

  • Oh, my goodness Carol. I laughed all the way through this! You and I have had similar sleeping habits! 🙂 I hear ya friend. How often we wish we had more time! Thank you for your honesty and candor! It’s good to know we’re not crazy on our own! Happy Friday to you! (Stopping by from FMF #45)
    Rachel recently posted…When we’re not happy with where we areMy Profile

  • Such a different take on the prompt than mine. LOL. You conveyed your stress so well. Blessings to you!

  • I hate when my brain won’t shut off. I laughed with you and the ridiculousness of not being able to sleep. Hoping tonight you get some good sleep. I’m in the #11 spot today.
    Tara recently posted…It’s Clearly Time!My Profile

  • Sounds familiar. 🙂 I especially hate when I am all drowsy – until I lie down, then my eyes are wide open. I try to listen to music or pray, but sometimes the thoughts just start roaming.
    Barbara H. recently posted…Book Review: GileadMy Profile

  • Oh, those days when I’m tired and just can’t sleep are hard.

    On another note – write the book anyway! I’m sorry you didn’t have more time with your father, but what a way to share him and his life with others in the family.
    Amy M recently posted…A Resource Guarded CloselyMy Profile

  • Oh, my word! You poor thing! It’s 8:27 and it’s time for me to go to bed…I’m praying that you get a restful night’s sleep tonight!
    Anita Ojeda recently posted…It’s Time to Let Those Wrinkles Take Their PlacesMy Profile

  • Don

    I believe Time is a direct result of the sin of our first parents, Adam and Eve.
    Before they sinned there was only a weekly cycle; First Day, Second Day, Third Day, Fourth Day, Fifth Day, Sixth Day and Seventh Day.
    At the time of their sin Time change from cyclical to linear.
    Death was promised for disobedience, so they began keeping a running record of Time until their inevitable death.
    I turned 75 on my last birth date, I am 75 years closer to my demise than I was when I was born!
    The days of eternity revolve in a cycle just 7 days long. Sinful days stretch out in a linear pattern for 60 years, if we are so blessed, and linger longer as we reach for 80. Those reaching 100 or more years are surely being a profound blessing to someone.
    BTW- there are times when sleep eludes even the 70’s years and I find that it is then that I can be more creative in so many ways. Just get out of bed and “go with the flow.” You most likely will not experience any ill effects from the lack of sleep.
    While I’m on that train of thought, maybe the need for sleep is a result of sin, also.