Yesterday evening I went to put on a recently purchased jacket. I’ve only worn it a couple of times, and yet pulling it on I found a tear on the sleeve. Goodness knows where it came from, but guess what? This morning I had time to sew it up. It didn’t get put on a pile to be done at the weekend (I can only sew in daylight, poor old thing, eyes are going) it got done straightaway. This is the gift of giving up work. Time. I had time to phone the electricity board and was able to arrange a time for them to come. Quickly. I don’t have to arrange time off work for electricity board visits, or any other workmen type visits anymore.
I had a letter from our travel agents who needed some information for our forthcoming (exciting) trip to India and Nepal. Instead of surreptitiously phoning from work, and not having the right information there, I had time to do it straightaway. Its a revelation to me how much easier life is generally when work doesn’t interrupt it.
I met with a friend for lunch. In the past I have always had less than an hour by the time I get to the restaurant, to scoff down the food and catch up on gossip. This time we lingered over lunch had two pots of tea, each, and even ran to puddings. Two hours later we were gossiped out. A leisurely lunch with an old friend is definitely one of life’s small pleasures.
This afternoon, with not too much to do, I indulged in watching a tennis match on tv (Murray vs Djokovic since you ask. Not sure if spelling is right, sorry!) and I still have time to type up a blog post before getting in the kitchen to make dinner.
My time is now my own.