At age 35, it would be nice if I finally understood how time works. Instead, this is what it looks like when I try to take a late afternoon hike:
90 minutes before sunset: Intend to go hiking.
50 minutes before sunset: Actually leave to go hiking.
40 minutes before sunset: Arrive at destination and proceed to walk original intended distance, due to inflexibility.
10 minutes before sunset: Run to cover more ground until darkness makes this an unwise course of action.
Sometime after sunset on the line between dusk and night: Arrive back at car with no dire consequences having befallen me, thus reinforcing that I can get away with this, whether or not I actually like it.
A conversation I had tonight with my partner at the culmination of a week of bean-type soups and chilis:
Me: Dinner tomorrow? Partner: Three-Bean Soup. Me: Me: *swears at partner* Partner: Three-Bean Soup, but instead of the broth– Me: There’s a fourth bean? Partner: I call at Three-Bean Surprise. The surprise is the fourth bean.
I finally hemmed a pair of pants that I’ve worn pinned up with safety pins for eight or nine years now.
I did an absolutely awful job, but at least I won’t have to feel the click-click of safety pins against my shoes next time I wear them. That will only happen with the other pairs of pants that have also been safety-pinned for five-plus years.