Once upon a time, I killed time without a second thought. Time after time I wasted time. I was a good-time Charlie, having a good, high, whale, and hell of a time. Oh, how time flies when you’re having fun, and I’ve had more than fun: I’ve had the time of my life.
But at my time of life I’m feeling pressed for time — indeed, I find I have no time on my hands and am almost in a race against time — and now I want to play for time. On borrowed time, I want to turn back the hands of time, although I’ve heard that you can’t make up for lost time.
Some say it’s about, high, or past time. Certainly I would agree that it’s not before time.
Sometimes I feel as if I’m in a time warp. Time and again I have no time and I can’t find the time. Every time I turn around it’s crunch time. Oh well, desperate times call for desperate measures.
The time has come. As the old adage has it, there’s no time like the present. For me, there’s no time to lose: time and tide wait for no man, and likely not for very many women either. In short, time is of the essence: It’s game time!
There’s no point in biding my time or hoping for better luck next time. If I ever hope to hit the big time, or even just to be in the right place at the right time, I have to take one step at a time toward my goal. I have to get face time with people who can help me, taking care not to catch them at a bad time. If I do that, results will just be a matter of time: quite some time, next to no time, no time at all, or less than no time, depending on whether time is on my side.
So I propose to lose no time: in fact, I expect I’ll hardly have time to breathe. And even though I’ve tried this real-time strategy unsuccessfully twice before, the third time’s the charm. This time I’ll allow for the necessary lead time: You doubt me, I know, but there’s a first time for everything. So don’t give me a hard time; instead, give it time. All in good time, as they say.
I won’t be taking my time, I assure you: I plan to make good time. And I won’t be clutching at the past: I plan to get with the times. That approach has stood the test of time since time immemorial, I think you’ll agree.
Of course, if I need a time out, I’ll make time for that. I won’t exactly have time to spare, and I certainly won’t have time hanging heavy on my hands, but when it’s time to call it a day, I will.
Well, it’s time I was going. What’s that? You want me to run this past you one more time (which seems like the nth time to me, I have to tell you)? No, it really is time to run. I’m calling time on this little discussion. But maybe, by the time I get to Phoenix, I’ll feel more like talking about it again.
This piece sounds like more than a mere mental exercise in finding ways to use the word “time”.
It was time to do so.
🙂
Jim T – Not so much. I just enjoy playing with the language.
A man in our condo building turned 90 a few weeks back. He said to me, “When I was a teenager I couldn’t wait to be 21—the age of majority. Then I turned 21. That was only five years ago and now I’m 90.”
Tempus Fugit, Isabel.
Tom
Tom – Hahaha. Yes, it do run away . . .
I can think of a watchmaker who would have appreciated this.
Barry – 🙂
Isabel – Now that you are retired – you are supposed to have lots of, wait for it, time!
Time does seem to go by more slowly after the first four or five years of retirement though (he says after almost four years of experience in the retirement field).
John – OK, thanks, I’ll be watching for that change a few years hence. Right now I think it’s me that’s going more slowly.