Time and Time Again--It AIn't Flying Anymore

Where does time stand still?

Hospitals. That's where. They're in a different time zone altogether--with their own time theories. Time does not move here the way it does out there. It creeps and crawls. Their clocks, external and internal are wired for an alternate universe--a slooooooow universe. Hospitals are the relative you always have to make allowances for, if the party's at 3:00--you tell them it's at 2:00, or 1:30. But with hospitals you have to pad the time. If surgery is scheduled for 10:20, you should add 2 hours.

Just to be on the safe side--or sane side. I wish I had remembered this fact. Luckily I did remember my laptop--and the waiting room has wireless. Thank you, oh great ones of this place outside of time...

So my older son is the one having surgery. Broken jaw. Ow. I won't go into details, suffice it to say, the details are incredibly stupid and only achieved by young men who are legally adults, but so not adults.

The last time I was waiting for him to come out of surgery was 21 years ago, he was 3months old and I was nowhere near the level of calm I am now--and with good reason. But, obviously he survived. And so did I. We'll both be fine after this too, I'm just not sure which one of us will have the longer recovery time.

I don't know if I have a question. I know, what was the hardest lesson you had to learn?

If Time Really Does Fly, Why Doesn't My Baggage Ever Get Lost ?

Okayokayokay...soooo it's been awhile since I've blogged. And I realized I hadn't blogged in awhile, but when I saw the date of my last post, well, that's just not right. Right?

But, we all know life and...other things happen that makes our time fly. So, why can't it fly first class? I think sometimes it does, we just forget about those times.

Lately I feel as if I'm letting it fly by, or maybe as if I've been grasped by the hand and pulled along--with no control as to any destination.

So, today, my Mom, Joan Kennedy (not that one) gave a workshop at the library where I work and I was reminded in a non naggy mom way that I do have control over my life and my time. I'm the damn pilot. D'oh! I had forgotten that fundamental fact. It's my life. A mental slap to the cerebelum, or wherever, is a good thing, something we all need every once in a while. We all just get pulled into the flow of what's going on around us--a centrifigal force of crap--we forget that we are the pilot and the navigator of ourselves.

And that "baggage" we carry with us, well...let's toss it out over the Bermuda triangle. Ba-bye.

So, what's it like where you stand--are you the pilot? What could you do to become the pilot?