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September 24, 2012 | by  | in Features |
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It’s Time

You know that thing you’ve always really really wanted to do?

Everybody always says that life’s too short. Life’s too short for bad wine, documentaries and ugly curtains. As I toasted my grandma on her 93rd consecutive year of life, I thought how life is actually very long. Seven years shy of a letter from the Queen, she has had as much time as she would have asked for if someone had gone to the trouble of checking when she was age zero in 1919. We have ample time to do anything we want. I would go as far as to say that we have far too much time for our own good.

We forget what we can achieve right now and that the possibilities of today are substantial going on great. This lack of urgency tends to have dire effects on our personal narratives. Tomorrow is not fictional, it will come and it does indeed represent a second chance to ask her out, to say sorry or to visit Te Papa and touch the ball. But you have the present to achieve all that and, although time is rhythmic, the opportunities that come with today are not guaranteed ever again.

I hear far too many friends claiming they are playing the ‘long game’ with the girl they are savagely in love with. Keep baking that regret cake. In general, this is a vague term used to mask chronic romantic indecision (CRI) and make it sound like a decisive battle plan. While you think you’ve laid siege to her fortress and are tunnelling under the walls day by day, she’s already categorised you as a harmless cutey. Enter Prince Dangerous, you exit left stage.

Let us zoom to the future now and review this regretful saga that resulted in a blue period longer than Van Gogh’s and staunch words to your mates like “fuck her, she’s a bitch!” The time was there, but instead of taking the situation by the scruff and being the ‘situation,’ you watched the clock count down and hadn’t even put your second name on it when the examiner said “pens down”. Fool of a took!

We piss away our time in other ways too. My nana left it till ten years ago to come and live with the cooler half of the family that is based here down under. Countless quarrels with her less favourite daughter back in London town could have been a hypothetical likelihood instead of a buzz kill reality. Even a lady that I rate as wiser than Gandalf made the mistake of watching her time roll on by, donating decades to procrastination and putting off one of the best calls of her life.

As with our strictly hypothetical failed romance, she had the opportunity to make a move long ago but declined to act. She may be Livin’ La Vida Loca, scamming a free roast at our house on Sunday nights, but this is just the after party. She missed out on the ball if you ask me, and the night is drawing to a close.

Time isn’t of the essence. You’ve got time for all of it, whatever it is. A little birdy told me humans in the developed world (that’s us) may soon be regularly reaching the century and the Queen will be the world’s most prolific correspondent. By the time you’re done on earth you’ll be as slow and learned as one of those ancient tortoises on the Galapagos, assuming assassins don’t intervene.

The trick is to actually use this time to tick everything on your list. You have been presented with a Valentine’s buffet of time and it’s up to you to shamelessly stuff your face. Don’t let the seeming endlessness of life be a debilitating opiate to your success. Ride till dusk and you may find yourself somewhere quite different to where you started this morning. Giddy up. ▲

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