Baby One More Time

I’m not a fan of time; that clock on the wall’s just a ticking time bomb.

Today when a friend was an hour late to a zoo play date, I about lost my shit, but I also recall when I was in Costa Rica, where time is que sera sera; if a person wasn’t at a location, I didn’t care and would simply try the next day again.

Me minus time equals a better person.

How do I make steps towards a time-free existence within our time-obsessed culture?

It could be a mindset shift. Like, if in my thoughts, I’m like, “Oooh, it’s already 9:54 pm, I haven’t written my blog yet, and blah, blah, blah,” I will insert my Costa Rican brothers and sisters mentality and be on Tico Time.

It’s a real thing down there. Google it.

What if I also placed tape and draped towels on clocks on off-work days?

Or set them all at crazy mix-matched times?

You might think I’m against all the dreaded timekeepers, but that’s not true. The sundial and hourglass are passable. I’ve been to SunDial Bridge several times near Sacramento, California, which is badass. and I’ve played the word game Scattergories with their sandy dial without a problem.

This all reminded me of something; I do not miss our rooster.

Take care.

Love, Jaclynn

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