Swimming competitively in high school taught me the value of time down to a second. A split second, as it turns out, is a lot of time. I worked hard for years, trained twice daily in the early morning, in the cold, in the peak of summer time bliss to shave down a split second of a time in a race.
So when the train takes 8 minutes to arrive, and the connecting train takes 10 minutes to arrive, sometimes I get stressed over all those nanoseconds of wasted time when I could be at home in bed, or at work on the clocking getting paid, precious time wasted in my schedule chopped full of rest, fun, and personal projects. I am concerned about getting back home as soon I can and soaking in the bath tub.
That 18 minutes, though, of time waiting for the iron chariot to arrive at the platform stop, is not really that much time. It is only 3 minutes longer then 15, which is nothing but a wink in time. It’s a coffee break, it’s a gossip break, it’s a few text messages on the phone.
Funny thing is, though, that as I was hyping myself for not being mad at myself for not running to catch the train, for telling myself that I can be a few minutes late to work- I have all day after all, the train that I ended up boarding got stuck on the rails for a full 30 minutes- no moving, locked inside with the explanation about a delay happening.
Ironic, that even the most well intended pep talks, isn’t always enough. Fortunately though, there is always tomorrow, with a new train to catch, and new minutes to idly pass while dreaming of maximum productivity.