Monday, December 29, 2008
my stolen hours aren't spent doing things that most would consider to be spicy or headline-grabbing, but they're important to me all the same. when i get a gift of time that i didn't expect, i like to doodle, read or just disappear into my head for a while. the best stolen hours are guilt-free surprises, like when someone cancels an appointment or a meeting i didn't want to go to in the first place, or when my husband takes our girls out for an hour or two.
i've also taken the moral low ground and swiped those hours myself when necessary. when i was office-chained to seventy hour workweeks, in moments of desperation i would slink up to the roof of my building and gape at the sky, since i was too mind-numbed to do anything else. or in the days when i was catching 6 am flights every monday, i admit that once in a tiny while i had an extra cup of coffee at the airport, writing or dreaming or doodling, and chalked up my delay to issues with baggage claim or car rental. just enough to get my head back on track, focused, and repaired. you know.
whether gifted or stolen, those rare hours are measured bits of gold, and i get a secret thrill out of every second of them.