Time Is Money

Know what’s crazy?

How much money concerns can alter a person’s perception of time.

I was thinking about it a bit this morning while getting ready for work. It’s Friday, but not a payday Friday, and even when it is a payday Friday next week, it doesn’t really count, because most of that paycheque will go to rent. I have a mental list (and notes in my phone) of things I need to buy before the end of the month – or, more specifically, before my first July paycheque – and beyond that, in my head, June is already over.

Even though it’s only the 17th, and barely halfway through the month.

So much of my time, it seems, is spent calculating what I have left, what’s coming, and how much I will need to spend, to see if there is anything left for what I want to spend money on. I pay my bills out of the first paycheque of the month, and rent out of the second, and everything spent on life in between comes out of whatever is left over from those two. It’s constant, really. Even when extra cash comes my way, like a tax refund, it generally goes into my non-existent savings to act as a kind of buffer between me and a bounced cheque or another bankruptcy. It gets set aside for the unexpected expenses which inevitably come up throughout the year.

And so as my mind lives from paycheque to paycheque, and from month to month, I find I’ve begun to think of time that way, too. Since I’ve already paid my bills and made a list of the things I’m running out of, June is now, essentially, done. June is dead to me! Haha

I jest about that part, but not about how weird time is when it’s measured in paydays and bills. I don’t even really bother to save up for things anymore. Not like I used to. TIFF passes, Fan Expo fun – I already know I won’t be buying a TIFF package again this year, and as for Fan Expo, I’m not expecting to be able to get much, if anything at all. Hopefully a photo op or two, but until I know the prices, even that won’t be guaranteed. My goal right now, and for the past little while, is to get a new computer. Or new to me, and better than the poor beast I have slaving away at home currently. For Mind Reels stuff, Guinness World Record stuff, Etsy and Ebay stuff (if I ever find time for crafting again), writing, and several other little side projects that have been put on hold for now – all of those things require slightly better technology than I have, at least in order to do them well. I’ve been getting by, but things could be so much better.

I could be so much better.

Then there’s the ever-growing list of things I want to do “someday”, but when time is measured in paydays, “someday” rarely comes, even as we speed ever closer to when it might have been.

The larger problem, of course, is that it’s also panic-inducing on a regular basis. Every time I pick up a prescription at the pharmacy, every time I am close to running out of cat or dog food, every time I obsessively check my bank account before my rent cheque comes out, to make sure there’s enough money to cover it. Every time I’m too tired to make lunches to take to work but force myself to because I know I can’t likely afford to go buy lunch. I know I said in another post that all I really have to do is make different choices; sacrifice some things to make it easier to cover other things. I just haven’t really done that yet.

Which is also kind of panic-inducing, really, because time is going by so quickly in some respects. Someday becomes some week, some month, or some year – usually in the blink of an eye, or what seems like one. It all happens so fast. Thinking about what I need to do, then suddenly realizing I should have done it long ago and would have been further ahead, instead of still just thinking about it.

And yet actual time – between the start and end of a work day, between paycheques – that stuff slows right down.

I guess time is relative, in a way. Each of us measure it differently, yet we also measure it in a variety of ways, each ourselves. Vacations, time spent actually sleeping, weekends/days off – that stuff all flies by. Measuring time in paycheques flies by without even moving, because I’m already thinking two paydays ahead. I could probably give the actual time it’s been since I last saw my conjoined other half, yet no matter what the calendar and clock says, to me it feels so much longer, and with no definite end to the wait in sight.

Maybe I just have to find a better way to measure time – to slow it down when I’m having fun, and speed it up when I’m bored to tears. Alter perception with regards to the motion of time.

If I could bottle THAT, I’d never have to worry about the relationship between time and money again.

Time-Quotes-5

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Rambling Mind

I don’t understand what’s going on. At all. Maybe nothing. I have no idea. There is, of late, a huge disconnect between my inner and outer realities. Add a healthy dose of PMS into the mix and the confusion is overwhelming. So isolating. Perhaps I am just succumbing to my usual paranoia and uncertainty. Though it’s often been right in the past – can it still be deemed paranoia if it ends up being correct?

Meh. Questions without answers, really. Better to just keep plodding along and wait for my next break.

I have my next MRI on Sunday. While I’m technically hoping it will be a quick session, I feel it’s much more likely that it’ll be one of the long 45-minute-IV-with-contrast-material types, instead. It makes more sense, since it’s just my annual check-up type one and they’ll want to get as much detail and cover as much territory in the scans as possible. I just really hate those ones, and am running out of ways to entertain myself while in the tube for that long. However, at least it’ll be over with, and since Monday is a holiday, I’ll be able to just relax and do nothing, if I want, the whole next day. That’ll help. Usually I feel more than a little off once I come out of the machine. I know it doesn’t do anything to me physically, but my mind feels cloudy, anyway. Maybe from focusing on remaining still while not letting claustrophobia set in.

There should be a law against cologne – or artificial scents of any kind – that I can smell even if I am not near you. Seriously people. What kind of nastiness are you trying to cover up by dousing yourself so completely in something else?

Anyway.

I’m frustrated at this whole not working Saturdays thing. I know, sounds weird, but there are several reasons why I’m feeling this way. Aside from the fact that it’s a shorter work day, and earns a longer weekday off, which is sometimes enough. But it would give me the opportunity to do other things I want to do sometimes. Like go to the zoo. I hate going on weekends, through the summer at least, because of the hoards of sweaty hairless apes in my way, ruining my Zen thing. But if I want to go on a weekday, I have to burn a vacation or sick day to do it. I got turned down for volunteering at the Wildlife Centre because the weekend shifts are first to go, and those are the only ones I could do. I probably wouldn’t be a Big Sister again anyway, but that’s another thing I can’t do. Not the in-school mentor program, at least. I can see my therapist if I book an appointment first thing and then head to work after, which doesn’t always have me in the greatest headspace for the rest of the work day. Sometimes it’d be better if I could just go home after and process. But I can’t, unless I am willing to burn a sick day, o vacation day, if I know far enough in advance that I won’t feel up to coming in that day.

Overall, it’s fine. I’ve just been feeling lately like I am having to give up a lot of the things that I’d enjoy or look forward to or benefit from in some way in order to continue receiving a paycheque. That is, of course, the most important thing, because without that I’d have far less opportunity than I do now. I guess I’m just sad that this seems to be all there is, and I am struggling to make even that much balance out. It’s depressing sometimes.

In other news, Mr. Brodykins has an appointment with the groomer on Saturday! He will hate every moment, except the ones where he gets to hang with Momma Kristi and ride in the car. Probably on her lap, if he gets his way. That’s his preferred mode of travel, after all. I hate leaving him there, knowing how miserable it makes him, but he does love being picked up after, and being told how utterly adorable he is. He likes to show off a bit, at that point. Maybe I’ll see about getting him some kind of little special treat for being a good boy. Because he’s always a good boy. He hates the whole grooming process with the seething fire of a thousand suns, but he doesn’t fight it. Instead, he freezes in his silent misery, and tolerates it all until it’s finally over. And then gets unnaturally excited when you put his collar back on.

Bless.

I love that little guy.

I don’t know. Maybe I’m just so in my head I don’t really know what’s accurate or real anymore. Or maybe my instincts are good enough that I’m getting the hints being put out there, but am just not certain enough to react. Maybe there’s nothing to react to at all. Regardless, I feel dumb, so hopefully I can figure out at least some of it soon. It’s seeming pretty manic, really. I’m still here, though, so as much as I am trying to sort some things out, I’m also trying to, like, live day to day life. It’s all I can think to do, sometimes.

Long weekend coming up finally, and then next weekend is the first one I booked off for myself. Four days in a row! I don’t know how I’ll manage NOT to give myself so much to do that I won’t get it done and then be disappointed in myself…but I’m going to try not to give myself so much to do that I don’t get it done and feel disappointed in myself.

A co-worker just asked if it was Friday yet – it’s like he’s reading my mind. I was just thinking how far away Friday still is, but that it’s kind of a good thing because I have a lot to do in the meantime.

I was looking up screenwriting contests yesterday to see if there were any deadlines I could aim for but realistically meet. I realized that I’m not anywhere close to ready to start writing the updated adaptation of my first book, though. I need to sort out the changes that will be made and how they’ll all go together with the parts of the story that are being kept. I’ll work on a new outline first, and then consider starting the script.

Why can’t things in our heads just come out on paper automatically?