Well, It Was a Turd Ball of a Week to Trying to “Fill the Unforgiving Minute”

You ever have one of those weeks when all you really want to do is curl up in bed, and not get out until it’s all over?

Yeah, that was me this week.

I’ve been feeling a little off. Nothing concrete, I didn’t have a fever, I wasn’t sick to my stomach, and no problems with the bathroom bits. Nonetheless, I had headaches, my appetite was down, I was having minor bouts of nausea in the morning and no matter how much I slept, I woke up tired.

That was all well and good, but even if I could blow off work, hell even if I wanted to blow off work, I still have children to feed and organize. I may have felt like crap, but no way could I leave them unattended for 8 hours while their mother was away at work.

Child abductive services notwithstanding, little boys need to eat, they need to run, they need structure and boundaries, and they simply can’t be left to their own devices for a full day, lest you want the house destroyed.

No, lying abed was simply not going to happen, so I got up and carried on carrying on.

Ate my oatmeal, fed and watered the boys, got my morning coffee and did my job. Deadlines got met, side projects got pushed along, I even managed to get in a couple of good, hard runs.

Last week I was noodling time, and its passage. I concluded by imploring you not to waste those precious ticks of the clock, because once gone, they’re gone, and they’re never coming back.

What I’m trying to point out, in this aimless little story, is that I try to take my own advice, and I try to take it very seriously. It was a turd ball of a week, but in spite of having to fight my way through most of it, I didn’t throw it away. Through self-discipline and will, through this misery of a week, I:

  • Maintained my health
  • Maintained my fitness
  • Took care of my children
  • Did my job (and did it very well)
  • Advanced my (perhaps too many) side projects

That’s the lesson Rudyard Kipling was trying to impart:

If you can fill the unforgiving minute

With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,

Yours is the earth and all that’s in it

And – which is more – you’ll be a Man, my son!