In Time

I've always been the kind of person that needs deadlines. Without the pressure of needing to deliver I could faff around for ever. But tell me the show opens next Friday and somehow the script gets written and something gets up on that stage.

Time was there was something vaguely rewarding about this. A sense of the deadlines usefully assisting in accomplishing something. But that time is long gone - and the reason for this is simple. Now the deadlines are so numerous the problem is keeping track of them all. So meeting them comes as a series of minor surprises as none can ever be significant enough to generate any sense of accomplishment, and even if I could feel such a sense, there wouldn't be time to feel it for long.

I say this without complaint - all appearances to the contrary. It's just the way things are. Like so many aspects of modern life: silly and sad.