Friday 8 August 2008


Yes I really did start writing this blog post today at eight minutes past eight o'clock on the eighth day of the eighth month 2008 - not for any good reason at all, apart from seeing if I could and also because this phenomenon won't happen again for another hundred years and I expect I'll be dead by then...

And the pic seems so appropriate doesn't it? Time just slips through my fingers. Where the heck does it go? I start writing at 6 a.m. and before I know it, it's mid-day and I've missed an entire morning somehow - and usually have very little to show for it. And days and weeks and months just fly by, don't they? Is time really going faster or is it just because I'm getting old??? Please don't answer that one...

I do have problems with time because I can't wear a watch. They just stop. So do clocks if I touch them. And no, before you say anything, it's not just because I've got the sort of face that'll stop a clock (that was my Auntie Edie - looked like a warthog with a moustache). I used to think my timepiece problems were because my body was filled with magical magnetism but apparently it's because I exude excess acid (lovely!) or at least that's what Elle's science teacher told her. So, I have over the years, developed this infallible inbuilt way of knowing what the time is simply by the light or the position of the sun or just, well, knowing. I can also wake up at a set time without an alarm clock just by telling myself before I go to sleep what time I need to be up. My dad used to so this too, so I didn't think it was odd until I mentioned it at a party and people started avoiding me (although it might have had more to do with my exuding the aforementioned excess acid of course).

I've now convinced myself (but not anyone else) that my inbuilt clock is part of my synesthesia (sp?). This is because I also see words, and particularly the days of the week, in colour. Skip this - it's boring - but if you're interested, Monday is yellow, Tuesday is pale blue, Wednesday is bright green, Thursday is orange, Friday is brown, Saturday is red, and Sunday is silver.

However, as this is now sounding as though I'm barking I'll stop posting about time and colours and do something proper. Oh, just one last thing on time - I'm manically obsessive about getting everywhere early. I'll always leave at least an hour early for anything - can't bear to be late anywhere. The Toyboy Trucker and Elle, on the other hand, leave everything to the last minute. This drives me demented - especially when we're travelling. I have to be at airports and railway stations long before the allotted time - always tell The Toyboy Trucker our flight/train is an hour earlier than it is. He hates it - hates the hanging around - but as I always promise him (it's a lie) that this time I've given him accurate departure details, he daren't risk disbelieving me.

Now I will go because there's writing to be done and as I'm living on industrial strength painkillers because of the toothache I know I'll be asleep before long - but at least I'll know when it's time to wake up...


Margaret McDonagh said...

The picture of time slipping through the fingers scared me rigid! Reminded me just how quickly the days are flying by and the dreadline is looming and the wip is not going to plan.

There was a fascinating documentary on telly some while ago about people who say days or objects or numbers, etc, in colour. Really interesting. I didn't know you experienced that.

My Dad was the same as you and yours regarding having an inbuilt sense of the time, especially being able to wake up when he wanted to in the morning and being able to accurately guess the time without looking at a watch.

Good luck with all the writing projects. Great news you will be doing more for My Weekly - I loved those three 1960s stories. Any chance you'll revist the characters and give Lola her happy ending?

Mags xx

Christina Jones said...

You and me both on the wip, Mags - we'll have to jolly each other along - again! I know you can do it - I only think I can... So pleased you liked the MW stories - no idea if they'll let me go back to Lola and make her happy - it was a really strict commission as to content and word length and no-one's mentioned a follow-up. Think our dads had an awful lot in common actually!!!