TIMING YOUR DAY OUT

I lived a very long time before it occurred to me how much of my day is a series of tasks and events that, if timed, make schedules much easier to follow a proper time allotment. As I crawl out of bed, having used time to go from deep sleep to wide awake, I assess how long it will take to perform morning ablutions and relieve myself (gauging from the message sent by the disposal unit of my body.)

Next, after splashing water on my face, running a comb through my hair, I calculate what I will do next as I brush my teeth. Realization sets in that my whole day is a series of little timers in my head. On my way to the kitchen to make coffee, I turn on the computer (I am hoarding savings of mille seconds of time by using Verizon FIOS). I pick up, put away things, not wasting time particles as it boots, while I got coffee started. As it boils and drips I shower, calculating the time as longer if I shampoo hair, below my waist that dries slowly.

In the bathroom, I visualize clothes for the day, use stuff that attends my body and, back to the kitchen, pick up the coffee I drink as I get dressed. Suddenly conscious that I would be wearing walking shoes that require a shoe horn and tying rather than slip-ons. I adjust this time frame. Keeping in mind that I have a 10:15 AM appointment at least 10 miles away, a quick run to the kitchen for coffee refill gives me time to skim my email and reply to anything of immediacy.
My need to be on time (I believe unnecessarily lateness is disrespectful to friends). Need gas I postponed getting it, conscious that my promptness is conditional on whether the stop light fairy works with me and whether there is much traffic.

Maybe I could simplify my day by timing all moves and tasks with a stop watch. It made sense to do that until I realized it was just another job added to my day that gravity will pull to the bottom of my priority list. And so the day goes on in those time bits...some longer than others...reading a book, covering up flatulence or cooking odors with aromas sprayed directly into the return vents of the hot air
system, watering plants more often when my world becomes an arid desert, answering the phone to strangers too willing to waste my time. The day becomes a forest of time usurpers and my mind is dizzied trying to fit everything I planned.

I'm struggling not to deal with the devil to make my day longer, give myself more energy, and figure how to get more done.