No, I don't want to get off, I just want to slow it down a bit. Am I the only who who thinks Time has come loose from its moorings? It feels elastic; it stretches and shrinks on a whim, playing havoc with schedules, sleep, and to do lists. January disappeared before it got started and February is playing the same game.
The day after Christmas I said, "I'd just like to have 30 days of boredom—30 days of doing absolutely nothing—unless I want to." An hour later our oven door blew off; just one more surprise in a year of continuing surprises.
Since then we've taken on a new project, agreed to teach another travel class, searched for and bought a car, ditto a used (2009) Casita trailer, dealt with the police, insurance, and courts over the November break-in, and now we're packing up to go to southern California to pick up the trailer and enjoy a week in the sun (we hope). Yes, we did make those decisions, but it feels more like time and events just rolled over us. At least we've temporarily answered the question posed above: what's next is, we hope, a lot of pleasant and random journeying.
The news doesn't help either, if one can call what we see and hear and read "news." Events, scandals, speeches, votes, nonvotes, elections, issues, personalities—they all fly by at record speed. No wonder the country is in such a state. No one can catch up with the action long enough to fix anything.
Okay, I'm done complaining. But if you run into Father Time, please hobble him. I seriously need a rest.