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A day, two weeks and a year

Time has a way about it that expands to fit the task at hand or shrinks in our memory depending upon the pursuit of pleasurable activities.

Yesterday I spent wriggling around trying hard to get comfortable. I’ve had kidney stones before–and this seemed familiar territory–only I produce sand–not stones–still unpleasant and reminds me that I probably had not been drinking enough water. The day seemed to have 48 hours in it–not just the standard 24.

Earlier this week I turned in a heart monitor. I had been wearing it for two weeks–two very long weeks of changing out sticky electrodes whose glue stuck to my shirt and nightgown, the blue and green lights blinking with each heart beat lighting up my bedroom at night, and the challenge of not doing anything ‘hot’ like mowing the yard while wearing it–as the electrode glue would melt off leaving the leads hanging out my shirt. These two weeks seemed like a year.

And then there was a 100 block sampler that I just put together. A series of  6 inch blocks pieced or appliqued or embroidered–a fun and enjoyable task–the time seemed to whiz by lasting in my memory only about two weeks at best.

We measure time by seasons and sunrise/sunset–but perhaps a more accurate way to measure it is by our recollection of adversity/pleasure–and hope that the pleasure aspect outweighs the adversity.

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