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This morning as I was getting dressed and putting on my makeup, I was acutely aware of a nearby wall clock tick, tick, ticking away. For just a moment, I had a realization that it represented my life. Moments were quickly ticking by that I could never retrieve.

To tell you the truth, I felt panic. (Not just because I was running a few minutes late for my appointment, but because I was running so many minutes late for my life.) It seems that for several years now, I cannot get my act together. First it was the continual stress, caused by a rebellious, strong-willed daughter. Then it was the illness and death of my dad, and the subsequent care of my mom. (I could barely stay organized when I was living my own life, but living two adult lives is total chaos.) You won’t understand what I mean by that, unless you’ve been there. Multiply all your errands, doctor appointments, hair appointments, grocery shopping, banking, pharmacy errands, etc., by two, and you’ll get the picture.

So today as I listened to the tick, tick, ticking, I realized that if I am going to actually live my life, before I die, then I’ve got to make some changes. I’ve got to find time for my own relaxation, my exercise, and for activities that bring me pleasure. I have to get off the roller coaster, and sit in a porch swing. I have to find myself in all this.

I have to find time for my husband, and my daughter, and my friends–the few I actually have left. (There is not much room for friends in the schedule I now keep.) But there should be.

Perhaps my first step along this path will be to get my sleep schedule back to normal. (Okay, maybe not–maybe somewhat normal.) I have always been a night owl, but since my dad’s death, I have developed a sleep disorder. I have to change this. Then I will have longer days, my health will be better, and I can begin to become the organized person that I once was, and long to be again. It’s called time management.

Time–when you get right down to it-time is life…

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