They say time is relative, but relative to what, I ask?

Remember as a kid the time from this Christmas to the next, from birthday to birthday, or from school break to school break was interminable? Hell, even the time from recess to lunch took an age.

Now, with the years under our belts and on our waistlines, and creating character-enhancing lines on our faces, it seems that only yesterday we were having a minor meltdown as to what to get Aunt Maude and whether the turkey would be moist enough for Grandpa, only to find that we, as I write, are a mere 273 shopping days away till the big guy in the red suit squeezes down our chimneys again. A sobering thought, and I do humbly apologize for giving you a fright.

There are certain events, however, when this phenomenon reverses and time drags its foot like a recalcitrant child being berated for dipping Josephine’s pigtails in the inkwell.

I find the clock almost grinds to a halt in any doctor’s or dentist’s waiting room. It really doesn’t matter that I don’t take into account the fact that I am constantly early, and therefore elongate that hated time. I must have a small streak of masochism in me, because I just cannot stop myself from arriving ahead of schedule.

And, as my fourth grade teacher would often remark, funnily enough it seemed she was always looking at me when she uttered “woe betide” – Anne, are you paying attention? Are you talking again??? – woe betide the medical practitioner who is late for an appointment with me.

The hours pass. Tick.    Tock.    Tick … well you catch my drift.


Likewise the Sunday that daylight saving time ends. My internal clock shakes me awake daily at 5.30, whether I like it or not, and the fact that some arbitrary person has said the clock will fall back on this particular day is neither here nor there as far as my internal workings are concerned.

So it’s “Up and At ’Em Annie” at 4.30 that day and for several days thereafter as I begrudgingly get used to it. I think they should remake the movie “The Longest Day” and produce a new one of my plodding through that Sunday as it if would never end. I think, possibly, this would be the longest movie known to man.

Dinner time and/or bedtime are equally affected by the timing of the end of a sporting event.

“I’m getting dinner, sweetheart – how much time is left in the football game? Three minutes you say?” Thereupon I adjust my epicurean procedure so I can produce the meal in approximately 25 minutes.

As March Madness heats up, the final 28 seconds in any basketball game rounds up to about 5 minutes, so the watching of the program I am looking forward to is thus delayed, and as you all know, my patience is most definitely not my virtue.

Mind you, time flies when you’re having fun, now doesn’t it?

“Time and tide wait for no man” is an absolute crock in my book – evidently they will wait if the price is right, for a critical play.

Annie Dear lives in Lee’s Summit. Email her at