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If I could put time in a throttle, wrestle it to submission and...
and then what? Make it crawl when I want to savor moments? Make it fly when there are too many tedious hours between me and what I want?
Instead it has me in a throttle, wrestling me into submission and making me beg on my knees for more as it flits out of my grasp and then idles in a full taunting throttle when I need it to race ahead full steam.
Two things I've found that give the illusion of speeding it up: working out to music on the mini-tramp and sleep.
Now if only I could find some way of making it stretch when I want it to. Like when Ed and I have a chat or Skype session.
We had one of each today. A two hour chat this afternoon during which every second I felt the anticipation of the good-bye as an icy grip on my neck.
We expected to have to wait until tomorrow evening to connect again. The library was about to close for him and tho he anticipated having the Internet back at home tomorrow he also has to work. So we said good-bye expecting there to be over 24 hours before the next hello.
But then at 8pm my sister got a text from him (he remembered that her phone is practically an appendage) saying to tell Joy I'm back on and want to chat. I was reading to Mom but we had just reached the end of a chapter so I told Carri to tell him I had to get my netbook plugged back in and I'd be right with him.
His first question on Gmail chat was Want to Skype? I said Sure but I have to close a bunch of stuff and do a restart. This he understood would take fifteen or twenty minutes and it was already his bedtime for a work night but he said Let's do it I want to hear your voice.
It was a quarter to nine by the time we got connected on Skype and again, knowing him and his strict biological clock, I felt that icy grip of the oncoming good-bye from the moment of the first hi. In spite of that tho we were both giddy with glee over the sight and sound of each other after a full week without.
He hung in there until 10:40 tho I admit he started easing towards good-bye more than half an hour before that. One of us kept finding that one more thing to say. And at one point when we were very close to wrapping up, our Merlin joined the party having woken from his nap back in the bedroom and come in search of Ed who had already been in bed when the landlord knocked to let him know the net should be back within the hour.
So I got to ooh and aww over our poor funnel headed kitty. Merlin had surgery Monday for inverted eyelids and removal of rotten teeth so I was thrilled to see how much better he was looking already. Poor kitty hates that funnel. He has to wear it until the 22nd when he gets the stitches out.
So we finally said good-bye just a minute or three short of two hours after the first hello. But at least this time we know we get to do it again tomorrow. We also get to have our good morning emails again.
Which reminds me, I still have to write his and it is already time to take my night meds which puts a severe limit on the time I have to spend on it. But I promised Ed that I would not still be awake and waiting to pounce on him when he gets up. One of my jobs during this crisis is to prioritize my health issues and my sleep issue is one of the biggest of those. It was also one of the biggest thorns in our relationship along with the mood issues related to it--in a complex cause and effect loop.
So one way I'm throttling time is by focusing my attention on those things that will create that future we are reaching for--when we can be together again and good byes are for nothing more than heading to work or the grocery store.