Time Keeps On Slippin’ …
… slippin’, slippin’,
… into the fuuutuurrrre
That Steve Miller Band song lyric from 1976 popped into my head the other day as my ‘to do’ list stretched onto a second page.
When did we get so busy?
And why?
And does it mean anything?
I like being employed and I know how lucky I am to have a good job, so I do everything I can to keep it; that includes taking on additional responsibilities whenever asked, even if it adds to my ‘lack of time’ dilemma. I spend at least two hours a day commuting to and from that job. Add to that some work-related activities that occur outside of work hours.
Personal ‘obligation’ time includes more and more maintenance on my thirty year old house, plus chores like grocery shopping, laundry, cooking. Time keeps on slipping away.
Admittedly I’m one of those Boomers obsessed with the search for meaning and purpose in life. The older I get the more I want my life to count for something and the less time I have to make that happen. I’m very active but I’m not sure that extra caulk on the guest room window is going to bring about world peace. Many parts of my media job touch a lot of people, but my main duty is making commercials; will an ad for a sale help the homeless? Where’s the meaning? Is my legacy that half-price meal deal on my radio station’s web site? Will my tombstone read “he drove 85 miles a day without crashing into another car”?
Sometimes I like the buzz and fast pace of my life.
But sometimes I long for simpler times, a predictable schedule, a 15-minute commute, a work week that is only 40 hours and a ‘traditional’ wife who does that chore stuff. If I had all of that I might have time to do more meaningful things.
Meanwhile, time keeps on slippin’.
----------------------------------------------------
Bonus observation:
The Steve Miller song I referenced is called “Fly Like An Eagle.” I was surprised to find these lyrics in the song:
Feed the babies
Who don't have enough to eat
Shoe the children
With no shoes on their feet
House the people
Livin' in the street
Oh, oh, there's a solution
It coincidentally and accidentally connects with one of the themes of this post.
… into the fuuutuurrrre
That Steve Miller Band song lyric from 1976 popped into my head the other day as my ‘to do’ list stretched onto a second page.
When did we get so busy?
And why?
And does it mean anything?
I like being employed and I know how lucky I am to have a good job, so I do everything I can to keep it; that includes taking on additional responsibilities whenever asked, even if it adds to my ‘lack of time’ dilemma. I spend at least two hours a day commuting to and from that job. Add to that some work-related activities that occur outside of work hours.
Personal ‘obligation’ time includes more and more maintenance on my thirty year old house, plus chores like grocery shopping, laundry, cooking. Time keeps on slipping away.
Admittedly I’m one of those Boomers obsessed with the search for meaning and purpose in life. The older I get the more I want my life to count for something and the less time I have to make that happen. I’m very active but I’m not sure that extra caulk on the guest room window is going to bring about world peace. Many parts of my media job touch a lot of people, but my main duty is making commercials; will an ad for a sale help the homeless? Where’s the meaning? Is my legacy that half-price meal deal on my radio station’s web site? Will my tombstone read “he drove 85 miles a day without crashing into another car”?
Sometimes I like the buzz and fast pace of my life.
But sometimes I long for simpler times, a predictable schedule, a 15-minute commute, a work week that is only 40 hours and a ‘traditional’ wife who does that chore stuff. If I had all of that I might have time to do more meaningful things.
Meanwhile, time keeps on slippin’.
----------------------------------------------------
Bonus observation:
The Steve Miller song I referenced is called “Fly Like An Eagle.” I was surprised to find these lyrics in the song:
Feed the babies
Who don't have enough to eat
Shoe the children
With no shoes on their feet
House the people
Livin' in the street
Oh, oh, there's a solution
It coincidentally and accidentally connects with one of the themes of this post.
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