Monday, April 28, 2014

Time is of the Essence

The rotation of the earth on its axis by which we mark the hours of the day is more or less constant.  But the perception of the passage of time varies significantly from person to person, from time of life to time of life.  Those interminable days of innocence when we were yet immortal and indestructible are long past for some of us, and the days pass swiftly, from hour to hour, and week after week.
However, here I wish to address a management technique for the passage of time which is apparently confined to the distaff members of our society.

For a woman in the store, and to the man waiting on the bench, or in the car, the number of ticks of the clock is exactly the same from the time they separated until the moment they reconnect.  But the sense of the passing of time remains a constant for the man.  The woman, on the other hand, has a capacity to “turn off” the passage of time.  She is totally unaware, even though her beloved may have remarked on parting, “Don’t be long.”

I do not think the lady deliberately makes a choice to prolong her mission.  But I do think that she has trained her mind from her youth up to shut off the internal clock when she is engaged in certain activities.  She has accomplished this with such finesse that she does not need to consciously order the stopping of the temporal calculator: it kicks off automatically when she steps before a mirror to “prep herself" or when she steps into a store on a shopping expedition, be her goal clothing, groceries, or paint, and nails and screws.  It matters not.  The two hours her man waits for her is no more than mere, unmeasured moments in her mind.

Perhaps I have not put this well, but there is not a married man alive who does not relate to what I am attempting to convey, nor is there a married woman alive who will not claim it is her man who has a faulty sense of the passage of time.*  Sorry, Honey.

*"I really hurried, because I knew you were waiting."


Vee said...

Since this post seems to be for married men (unless someone is wanting to stir up trouble) I will only comment on the drawing. "Great minds" do think the same. I also used a pencil drawing in my blog post today.

vanilla said...

Vee, No malice or meanness, just an observation. I am experienced enough to know better than to "stir up trouble," so it might be better taken in the humorous spirit intended. Also, generalization is almost always faulty in some respect: I know a woman who hates to shop (not my wife) and a man who can spend endless hours in a store. They are married to each other. Oh, the tricks the lovebug plays.

Grace said...

It is the opposite with me and my husband - he meanders, I get in and out as fast as humanly possible. I hate shopping. Tho I will dawdle on the sidewalk - window shopping is my preferred method of wasting time - but then my husband walks so slowly that it's often hard to tell who is doing the dawdling.

Sharkbytes said...

Vanilla- So you know Omer and me well enough to know that about us, eh? Haha. He has found a male friend who likes to do malls with him. Hallelujah! I am saved.

vanilla said...

Grace, any time I promote a generalization I find myself about half wrong. Seems there are others who share your outlook.

Sharkey, all I know is that for some couples what I suggested is highly inaccurate. ;-)

Secondary Roads said...

Sylvia rarely hauls me along when she goes shopping. I think we're both happier for it.

I tend to agree with the sage who observed: "Women shop. Men go out and buy things."

vanilla said...

Chuck, I strongly suspect that that arrangement promotes the greater happiness of both parties.

Lin said...

Joe and I do not shop together. And when I shop, I do MEGA shopping--trying to get it all done in one shot because I dread it so.

I spend a LOT of time waiting for Joe to get out of the house and into the car. You would think it would be the opposite...but he cannot just leave the house. Ugh. So, yeah...I feel your pain.

vanilla said...

Lin, I guess we all have our crosses to bear. ;-)