Time is spending you.

I only read a few chapters of a memoir this afternoon, but it's beginning to sink in for me. I already relate to the author, even though she has yet to supply any substantial information about herself.

She recalls conversing with a nun at nineteen years old talking about leisure. It became rather clear to her that this woman could ultimately do what she would never be able to do again-leisurely activities. The author discusses trying to "take back the time" that she lost as an adult. To go back to girl-hood without responsibilities and read books and write stories and let that time pass.

"Time is spending you."

This becomes her life goal. Getting moments back. As a part of society these are hard to come by. When is there time for reflection when the market is roaring? Everything's economical here in America. Time is money. You'll pay.

I am having trouble finding work. Granted, I'm not trying as hard as I could, but I'm not satisfied with money. I'm satisfied with time. I'm satisfied with leisure. And I think that should be a right.

Why do we do what we do? Why do we run around trying to make ends meet? For what? To survive? What does that even mean any more? Why are the costs so high?

I just wanna be.