“Waiting On Time”

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If only I was given a nickel for every time in my life when I checked the time, asked for the time, wondered what the time was. If so, today I wouldn’t be needing my social security check to be direct deposited before I paid my monthly expenses.

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In desperation, I’ve been known to use a tree branch, hold it perpendicular to the cement sidewalk making a crude sun dial to estimate time of day. In the middle of the night, if I awake, I always take a glance at the red digital clock numerals before going back to sleep. 3:41 a.m.

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I wear a watch. (Or should I say it wears me?)

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And even as the time continues to tick away, I dare ask myself to what end? I certainly am aware of the need for order. Measurement keeps the order. On time vs. late. Avoid chaos.

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Feeling full of myself, I think today I will live timeless.

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But, alas, lest I forget, breakfast is at 8 a.m. The most important meal of the day. I shouldn’t miss this. Or be late. I will begin my journey in timeless space immediately afterwards. Or after the cat is feed. Yes, after that. But then it will be too late. I will start tomorrow. Or. Maybe the following day. Or...

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Mistakenly buried alive, I lie in my casket. In deafening, dark silence, except for the sound of my ticking watch.

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I wonder what time it is?

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