HURRY, HURRY, HURRY – Marilyn Armstrong

FOWC with Fandango — Hurry

Hurry! Today’s our last chance for this great deal!

Hurry! If you don’t pay by Friday, you might lose your payment plan!

Hurry! Hurry! Hurry! This is your last chance, your final opportunity!

Everything has to be done now. This minute. Immediately. The bank has to get that bill paid this minute because if they wait 30 minutes, they will charge you extra … sometimes, a lot extra.

Don’t ever stop running because the world is chasing you! But don’t worry. One day, you’ll die and then, they can chase you forever, but you will never get caught.

CLOCKING OUT

I used to live by the clock. First, there was school — mine — to get to. Papers to write, deadlines to meet, exams to study for and hopefully, pass. Whoosh and I’m racing to get my son ready for school on time, ready for the school bus. Then me to the car for the long commute.

Watching the clock at work so I’d know when it was time to make that long drive back the other way.


White Rabbit: “Oh dear! Oh dear! I shall be too late!”


After I no long had an office job, I nonetheless wore a watch for some years. It felt odd to not wear one. Then, one day, my watch-wearing-wrist developed an itchy rash. It turned out — no kidding — there’s such thing as an allergy to wrist watches. It comes from wearing a watch for a lot of years and one day, the skin on your wrist rebels. I like to think of it as The Universe sending a message.

I do not wear a watch, these days, but I don’t need one. These days, there is a clock everywhere. On the telephone, cable box, and every item in the kitchen. We have clocks in the car, on the walls, in the halls, in the malls.

Beeping, chirping, ticking and occasionally bonging or ringing, clocks speak to our obsession with time — and our need to be forever busy and in a hurry. Many people are, apparently, proud of how busy they are and look at you with pity because you aren’t. I think they’ve got it backwards.

I am not in a hurry. I am occasionally busy, but I get un-busy as soon as I can. Not living by the clock is a great gift. There is life after clocks and definitely, without a watch!

Don’t bother to come looking for me. I’ve clocked out.

TICK TOCK TICK TOCK

I used to live by the clock. First, there was school — mine — to get to. Papers to write, deadlines to meet, exams to study for and hopefully, pass. Whoosh and I’m racing to get my son ready for school on time, ready for the school bus. Then me to the car for the long commute and watching the clock at work so I’d know when it was time to make that long drive back the other way.


RABBIT - Down_the_Rabbit_HoleWhite Rabbit: “Oh dear! Oh dear! I shall be too late!”


After I no long had an office job, I nonetheless wore a watch for some years. It felt odd to not wear one. Then, one day, my watch-wearing-wrist developed an itchy rash. It turned out — no kidding — there’s such thing as an allergy to wrist watches. It comes from wearing a watch for a lot of years and one day, the skin on your wrist rebels. I like to think of it as The Universe sending a message.

I do not wear a watch, these days, but I don’t need one. These days, there is a clock everywhere. On the telephone, cable box, and every item in the kitchen. We have clocks in the car, on the walls, in the halls, in the malls.

Beeping, chirping, ticking and occasionally bonging or ringing, clocks speak to our obsession with time — and our need to be forever busy and in a hurry. Many people are, apparently, proud of how busy they are and look at you with pity because you aren’t. I think they’ve got it backwards.

I am not in a hurry. I am occasionally busy, but I get un-busy as soon as I can. Not living by the clock is a great gift.

I’ve officially clocked out. It turns out, there is life after clocks.

THE DAILY POST | CLOCK