Kristian Mercer

Tempus fugit

I heard this phrase on TV the other night--I forget, now, in what context--and it got stuck in my head. It's Latin for "time flies" or "time is fleeting" (I checked on Wikipedia). And that's certainly what I experienced this past month. I've made some forward progress with my novel, but not enough. All too often time escaped from me.

Now I'll be the first to admit that not all my time was devoted to housework and laundry duty--although I did spend three days in deep spring-cleaning mode, and was shocked at the amount of dust I removed from my walls. No, I took the time to indulge in several treats.

I went to the Friends of the Seattle Public Library Book Sale, not really intending to pick up much of anything, and came away with eight beautiful, spine-completely-uncreased books (yes, I'm one of those readers). My two best finds were ARCs of Love and Louis XIV, the latest biography from Antonia Fraser, and The Mathematics of Love, by Emma Darwin--a novel that shifts between the present day and the aftermath following the Battle of Waterloo.

I saw several great movies; updated my spring wardrobe (the saleswoman at J. Jill loves me right now); and celebrated my grandmother's birthday. I visited friends, both the writing and non-writing variety. I entered my first three chapters in another contest.

So, really, my time wasn't wasted.

But it's gone. That time has vanished, and--aside from my new books, new clothes, and wonderful memories--I don't have a lot to show for it.

I don't want to whinge about what I didn't accomplish. There isn't any point. But I really, really, really want to finish draft #2 of my novel. I would like to be able to do more with the time I have.

So how do you manage your time? Any advice for the chronicity-challenged?