Are we running out of time?


God I just don’t have the time! Where has the time gone? How are we already nearly in April? Do you ever feel that you are stuck? That you are just running out of time?

Before I knew it, it was Friday again and another uni week had gone by, or at least it should have been if my lecturers weren’t all on strike...before I knew it that deadline that was ages away is actually tomorrow and I’ve once again left an essay to the night before. But i just don’t have time. I don’t have time to do the things I want to do. I want to blog, plan photo shoots for my big ideas, tidy my room, completely blitz it. I want to visit friends without feeling guilty. But I just don’t have the time. While this is seemingly trivial things that will work out once my dreaded deadlines are passed...there’s another clock ticking. 

I’m going to be 24 this year. 
24. And I am still in exactly the same place as I was when I was 22. You can read about that place here. And I am still questioning the same things but with the added pressure of I still don’t have the job I want. I am still pouring pints and it feels like I will be doing that job, in the same pub with the same regulars for the rest of my life. And I’ll tell you what-that is a fucking stomach churning thought. But am I running out of time to find that writing job that pays or am I running out of time to get the filming experience I want so I that one day I can waltz into Channel 4 studios with my unreported world documentary pitch? Is this not the sort of stuff I should be close to by now? Is the 20s not suppose to be the time when I start seeing steps forward? Instead every year I seem to be in the same place watching everyone else step up the life ladder with their dream jobs, promotions, travel pictures, home owning, pet buying and marriages. And I am still here. Still despising writing essays, facebook stalking people I use to know, and working in a job I hate. Where has the time gone?


The pressure of what you achieve with age is ever looming. A feeling that has been passed down to our generations from our parents and grandparents I presume. But also our constant need to compare and contrast your life with theirs and theirs and theirs. “Oh when I was your age I had 2 kids and was halfway through paying the mortgage off” well I mean that’s great Karen but houses were cheaper and graduate jobs were as easy boiling the kettle. But then you’ve got “oh don’t worry your time will come” says the girl you went to school with who got her dream graduate job, flat with the bay window and a cat. The 'lucky one'.

Sure. My time will come. But by this rate my time will come when I’m fucking 70 and too old to film a documentary while I hike over the mountains in Peru tracing the steps of Emperor Kuzco. 

Bloody hell is that the time? It’s 2:50am Monday morning. Where has the night gone? And I still have so much to do. And I am just chasing my tail. Where has the time gone? And can I get it back? Another night getting lost in my own thoughts. Another night lost to scrolling through social media wishing I was like the people on instagram. Another day wasted.

Time is an odd one because while it is a construct made by man, it is controlling us. It tells us when to eat, sleep and get up and do it all over again. And it is one nasty bugger when you haven’t made the most of it. But that leads me back-I don’t have time to make the most of it! I just can’t find it. When you’re running out of time you feel like you’re running against the wind. No matter how many lists you make and tasks crossed off sooner or later there will be another deadline, another chore or another working shift.

But maybe this is just temporary.  Maybe our time to have time will come around. It might not be when we want it… but maybe it’s just not the right time.

I suppose all we can do now is

 wait.