Making Up for Lost Time

I lost my watch. And it is a GOOD thing! See, I never wear a watch. I hate them. Somehow, having the time on my arm makes me all kinds of stressed out. I constantly fidget and look at my watch if there is somewhere I need to be in say, oh, FIVE hours. I nervously calculate what I have to do before this appointment, how much time each of these things will take me, how long it will take me to get to the appointment, etc etc. And I count down how much time left until I have to leave to get there. My entire day is spent worrying about the time, where it is going and how much there is left. I think it is a remnant from my childhood. With parents who were perpetually at least 30 minutes later than they promised all the time, I came to believe that punctuality is a responsibility and lateness is rude. If you are late it means you don't care. Something like that, anyway.

So, I wore a watch for a short time many years ago before I realized the nervous tics it created in me and haven't worn one since. But I bought a cheapy this year to help keep track of time for preschool. I put it on in the mornings before going to school and take it off immediately after school ends. And last week I lost it. With preschool coming to an end and the rest of my journey about to begin, I am excited--I LOST MY WATCH. The other day while sweeping the classroom I realized something my husband has tried again and again to pound into my head--I follow the SAME pattern over and over again. I graduated from college, didn't know what to do with myself and eventually went into teaching, which I hated pretty much from the beginning. Taking orders from other people and cleaning up after small children, not my favorite thing to do but something I somehow count on. Slowly I extracted myself from that world and found small success with educational writing. But, lo and behold when my major client disappears, what do I do? Instead of believing in myself and continuing on the writing path I take a job as a teacher. I spend another unhappy year taking orders from other people and cleaning up after small children. I buy a new watch.

When the simple realization dawned on me I almost laughed. Oh my god, what the hell am I doing?! Another one-year teaching career comes to a close. If I follow my cycle I am about to embark on a six-month stint of watching 90210 reruns and crying. Then I'll take some crappy-but-safe job that involves some writing for a few years, only to be followed by a banner few years where I break out on my own. Alas, if the pattern holds, this too will fall away and I'll have a complete freakout and another return to teaching. There will never be room for having kids, becoming successful, writing my own stuff!There will be a new watch and a new freakout every couple of years.I just can't do this again.

So, I lost my watch: Let the real me return and the future unfold!!!!