I swear it’s always Saturday. The other days of the week might not even actually happen, for all I know. It just always seems to be Saturday. Crazy how time works, isn’t it.
I’ve been thinking a fair bit about time this week. I’ve been so busy. I know I say that every week, but it’s true. On Monday I started at H&M (my new job), and it’s been a week of trains (nothing on your commute mum – only 10 minutes), new places, new responsibilities, books, Netflix, and name badges on lanyards. I have quite the collection of lanyards. Ok, two. I’ve also started training with another tour company, which will hopefully mean a few shifts over the next few weeks and another lanyard to add to my growing collection.
I was thinking about time this week because I’ve never quite managed to understand how it moves to quickly sometimes, but so slowly as well. I know the rate time passes doesn’t actually change (well, I think I know, it’s been a long time since I dealt with anything that scientific), but sometimes an hour seems to stretch on forever, and the next moment it’s passing in the blink of an eye. Case in point: the final hour of my first proper shift at H&M lasted FOREVER. My feet hurt (my feet always hurt, but still), I couldn’t find where a particular t-shirt was hanging, my back was beginning to ache, I was overheated, and the minutes inched by. Then today in the museum barely any time seemed to pass between 9.30am and 1pm, when it was time for lunch. I’m sure it probably had something to do with the difference between the activities I was doing: at H&M I was alone, sore, and had very little to preoccupy my mind, whilst at the museum I was chatting to my colleague and visitors, sending emails, and checking displays. Still, it does always baffle me how time really does sometimes fly.
I realise that might have made it sound like I’m not enjoying my job at H&M. That couldn’t be further from the truth. Yes, the final hour can drag, but so far I’m really enjoying it. I actually like having time for my mind to wandering. I can’t tell you much of what I thought about whilst hanging up clothes, tidying sections, or supervising the fitting room, but that’s nice as well. I have a thoroughly overcrowded mind, so overcrowded that sometimes my thoughts get in the way of things like working or sleeping. Having a few hours to myself, mostly alone, doing tasks I don’t really need to concentrate on, gives me the chance to get some of that brain-noise out of my head. And, if all else fails, I just count things. I like counting things.
So that’s been my week. Mostly working and getting used to a new schedule (working somewhere that isn’t a 20 minute walk from home is a novelty), but with a bit of time for reading, writing, Netflix, and even seeing friends (I know, crazy). It’s busy, but busy is good.