Listening for the tock

I wrote this earlier in the summer, when I looked at my summer schedule and realized I had exactly 11 days I hadn't scheduled anything on. For those of you that don't know, I'm a public school librarian. I'm not required to work all summer long, or even into the summer. Until this year, I did make it a point to go in every couple of weeks and sort the mail (which piles high in a week's time). This summer, I taught 2 sessions of summer school speech, went on a trip for church, visited the various and sundry doctors, and was at school quite a few days going over the renovation work in my library. I'd actually scheduled away my whole summer break.

goes the clock.
Ain't there supposed to be a 'tock' somewhere?
Seems like I learned that once
But who has time to listen for it?

My other blog is "The Clock is Ticking." I tell people that I don't mean that clock--the one my mother claims should be getting louder for me by now. And really, I don't. I mean time is passing. And I've been letting it race by while I've packed my days. "Downtime is wasted time."

It's only been in the six weeks or so that I've been selfish with my time. I blame it on The Man (who, if you're following our story--which I'll admit I don't keep updated well--is back in the picture. Thank God.). Never before have I found myself sitting still, when I knew I had other things that needed doing.

I catch myself listening for the tock.

For other thoughts and ideas on the idea of time, visit Poetry Thursday.
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