My Little Tilt - The Basic Measure - Insult to Injury

What is time good for if it can be wasted. Oh I hear it said. People think time is some scarce commodity to share sparingly. The clock mimics our internal cycles. In that sense time is the prefect metaphor for our existence. You may have heard me say there is no such thing as a perfect metaphor; if it were so perfect it would be redundant. But in this case we can actually observe peoples behavioural patterns co-relating to times. There are times of our lives, good times, bad times, some time ago and maybe some day. Which ever time we are in we will have to acknowledge the role the time setting implies to the overall situation. What is more, the sleep, work and play - all follow the clock.  I can say it is bed time and we all understand that the time is such. Time to do things to take care of our human aspect. Time of day, time of the year, even that point in my life. What is in my mind as I tap out this rhyme, the thoughts I entertain are the same ones that my brain has been over, a thousand times. Cyclic redundancy check. Yes the brain does not shut down when it cannot handle a concept. It stores it away for another day.

Time marches on. Maybe we need to slow it down. How though? The clock does not offer any suggestions.  If we replaced the internal mechanism with a slower one we would just get a slow clock. What if we phased the whole concept of time out, what if we took the cue from science and realized time is relative and just live as though time did not really matter? There might be a few missed appointments, brides left  at the alter, but very few beers left unconsumed. Parties might last longer. What would we get done really? There might be a lot less order than there is now. Without the time ultimatum there would be no hurry to pull back the troops in a battle, there might not be any timeline for peace. Food might not be planted on time or shipped or slaughtered on time. We might not have purchased our winter clothing in the fall or our shorts in the spring.

It is a clever device someone imposed on you, a control mechanism. She may have wanted to make generalized statements and wanted some standards and time seemed to be a good start. And you adopted it eagerly because the pharaoh wanted the job done in X number of years and every second counted. You even went out an purchased a wrist watch so you could be on time. I have news for you though, it is an impossible concept. As space unfolds before our eyes we are finding that time never began and it will be an infinite source of confusion to scientists who attempt to decide how to determine, to predict the behaviour of complex systems. At least it will be to those looking for a linear measure. The legal systems of the world are depending on concepts like opportunity and placing the suspect at the scene of a crime, etc. It only benefits a few to the detriment of the many. Those lawyers and financiers are holding the rest of us hostage in little boxes, on spreadsheets and in their dungeons. 

Some people are appearing in the email system, friends. They are using their work systems to setup teams meetings because we have no time, so I am reluctant to respond. It was great when I worked in the government and we held a common thread. The table 8 group we are called because we all, except one, met at a shared table at the TBS orientation sessions. So basically, we have met on several occasions over the years at restaurants or bars at lunch on Fridays when it was convenient. They want to use their internal network to tele-meet that I no longer have access to.

It has been a while since I started to binge watch all the episodes of the various drama series as I have. It is great to sit on the couch and not do anything other than that. But now I need to take a walk, go buy chips or other snack foods.

I wish only hell for Samantha, Julie and Karen. Samantha made her own job ridiculously difficult and took her frustrations out on me. Julie the director, encouraged it. She had previously marked me as an agitator and Julie was just a knob. Blaming me did not help Samantha who still, at her own hand, became a nervous wreck. Maybe in her mind getting me fired would solve her problems but it could only be temporary because she lacked the basics of civil personality to sustain any kind of relief. She will be the same person wherever she goes. She will need to rely on a savior like Karen, the ADM, who was some sort of tool who just took it upon herself in her capacity as an accountant, to help Samantha and so, after a couple of threats and lies, she fired me. I am still incredulous about how the PIPSC did so little to help. Some reading this might think I am being uncivil, but at some point, you must call a cunt a cunt. It was obvious to me that Karen, Julie and Samantha came from a common dysfunctional mindset. Their love for Jesus made them incapable of working with non-Christians. Fair enough, but you cannot use the public dime to exercise your grievances with your coworkers, Karen.

The measure of an individual is how well they adapt to their challenges in life. My road has been full of bumps and getting fired was a pothole I was not ready for. PIPSC made me face my labour issues alone and after the final bell I am amiss as to what the dues were supposed to be for. I was being treated for cancer when my dues as a retired member came payable. I was late to pay so the board decided to cut my membership. This was a kick in the gut while I was already down. Sure, I challenged the PIPSC at the labour board but that is my right, and I think they should be proud when their members avail themselves of those rights.

I am not and have never been a highly organized individual. I am too high strung and unfocused when it comes to the foibles of others, and the paperwork daily life requires. The twenty minutes it takes to play a game of chess online is the extent of my ability. I keep a lot of stuff for that reason, impressions of people and impressions on paper. Some day they will come in handy or serve some purpose. I do not give a shit about most of the garbage I have floating around in my office or in my head. I just want to understand how it all got there and how to avoid a similar mess once I get this all packaged away.

I will go off topic again here to relate the good news and that is that my cancer is now in complete remission. I am grateful to those who made it their jobs to come to my aid and the many specialists who provided input in treatments and in my recovery. I am still struggling with a past I need to reconcile but I am well and that makes for a fine situation. Let’s see, I am thinking of throwing out the many notebooks I have filled with my thoughts through the last forty years. Notes that take me through my incarceration, my rehab and my return to school and inevitably, my relationships and years of productive employment. Taking time to make a time stamp like a journal entry has been a good habit, one I tried to use to my personal and moral benefit, one that allowed me to overcome my lack of focus.

I suppose my early misbehaviour and juvenile delinquency was partially at least caused by head traumas sustained as an infant and later in childhood. I would add maybe the lack of supervision I had, but being from a large family made that unlikely anyway. I sit here today knowing that the more I sit the more feeble I will become and my health needs are for exercise which I am missing this morning. Sometimes I wake in a start and it is all I can do  to jump up to the side of my bed after mentally reliving one of the many experiences that set me crooked. My troubled sleep is sometime like me being in a struggle, and I muster up an assault only to find there is nobody there. The threat is lurking, but it is hidden except in my sub- or preconscious. It comes like a kick I react to. It may pertain to any of the thousands of conflict situations I have experienced and today's will not be the last, I am sure.

I seem to be carrying the remnants of many a time when I struggled. These time stamps will need to fade if I am to enjoy what remains of my time, as impossible as it may be.