The Time Crunch

More so than water, platinum, or even natural redheads, time is our most precious resource. Tight control over supply combined with constant demand on that supply means that time will only get more precious as it goes on. In my own case, time recently got more valuable than I can afford, and I may need to begin skimming a few minutes from my neighbours, passers-by, and if it gets really bad I may have to start harvesting it from the homeless. After all, they've got too much, I have too little, the solution seems perfect.

My problem is, see, I bought this fancy new monitor, and now none of my image files look right. 6000+ photos all have to be gone over and reassessed one at a time. In addition to all the other things I must do in a day: hygiene, housework, job, and blog. In other words, life.

Okay, so who doesn't love a challenge, right? I often wonder how, irrespective of staff, celebrities do it. Some, of course, mix a little crack with a little speed and they're ready to go. How then, irrespective of celebrity pharmacology, can I do it?

Well, the secret appears to be a rigid compartmentalisation of time from the minute I drag my ass out of bed two hours too early to the minute I collapse into sleep two hours too late. Do a little bit, then move on, then a little bit, then move on. Constant re-assessment of priorities during this time also seems to help. Try and imagine life like one of those sound boards, with dozens of sliders, and then just work them bitches like Timbaland.

Otherwise I find myself staring at the wall wondering where to start, which is dangerously close to procrastination, and that is the enemy.

I guess this is my way of saying that, having found my groove where this blog is concerned, it's time to move back a tiny bit to begin taking the necessary steps towards the next level. Progress is three steps forward, two steps back (or is that the foxtrot?) and so it's time to take two steps back, because the next three steps forward are going to blow everybody's mind.

A Vancouver Moment

This evening, while walking home, a pair of raccoons wandered across my path.

They'd emerged from beneath the hedge in front of my building, then ambled pretty confidently across Oak Street, which can be pretty busy at 12:30 in the morning. I mean, I look both ways crossing with the light and I've still got my fingers crossed, but not these two.

They startled a pedestrian when they came out of the hedge, and they hadn't gotten too far across when we saw each other, each a little skittish. I'm very respectful in my encounters with wildlife, so I stood still while they crossed, in case any sudden movement should further spook them. The first one stopped in the middle of the road and took a long sniff at the air. Clearly, he was not bothered by much.

Like most people, I'm a sucker for a little anthropromorphism, and I got a little tonight. When the first raccoon had successfully made it across the street it turned and looked back to see if its companion was still following, then waited until they were close to each other before disappearing into a new hedge. Obviously I'm a sentimental Hollywood victim, but that kinda choked me up.

Of course, I didn't have my camera out; I didn't even think about it til they'd gone. Just a quiet moment and a deep breath of cool sea air and suddenly it feels a little bit more like home around here.



[In lieu of photographic evidence from tonight's encounter, here is a raccoon I met in Stanley Park last June.]

When Lousy Things Happen To Cranky People

Okay, so it seems I have developed a severe case of ocular rectosis, which as we all know is the fancy name for a shitty outlook on life. Lately, though, even the cynic in me wants me to lighten up. Which is ironic, since he's the one who made me this way in the first place.

Just how do I go about this magical transformation, you're supposed to be wondering. So if you're not, please do... nnnnnNOW!

Well, the first step was to accept that lousy things don't happen to me. They just don't. Lousy things sometimes happen in my presence, I may intercept one from time to time, and very occasionally I may even be the (cough) cause. At their worst, lousy things only happen at me. Any damage they may do to my body is unfortunate, but heals; the decision to let them damage my soul was mine alone, and it does not get better on its own.

I've decided that if they won't like me the least they can do is remember me. Since the cure for negative is positive, the next negative person I meet I'm going to stun them with positivity. Not only will I not have to poison myself by reacting to them negatively, maybe knowing that some stranger cares more about them than they do about themselves can do more than just aid me in my recovery.

Pretty high-flown stuff, I'll admit. Really, though, that's all I want from the world: a little less lousy.