the Complex Algorithm of Womanhood
Forty minutes between work and an important phone call.
The drive home will take twenty minutes provided the roadway is construction free and I need to squeeze in a few errands...the mathematics of womanhood begin....
Banking add seven minutes, a grocery store dash another twenty-five minutes...
Tight, but doable... IF the lines are reasonable and IF I don't see the bathroom (the mere suggestion a working bathroom exists calls to my age and child-birthing weaken bladder) and IF I don’t run into anyone I know.
Fingers Crossed...
I formulate the complex algorithm in my head. I factor the alternate plan going straight home for indulgent alone time then divide by the distaste of returning to the grocery when schools let out and workdays conclude.
Carry the one divide by efficiency and my short itemized list enabling me to rush through in one swoop but factor in the variable of long deli lines and an inefficient check out guy or gal.
Multiply by the weather guessers’ prediction for bad weather...maybe...maybe not...
When did we stop sitting on the porch with lemonade for the purpose of sipping lemonade in a pretty space?
When did unmaximized minutes become a neon sign announcing laziness and failure to produce?
Lost minutes, overcompensation, squeezing in more, only to run late while inviting heath issues like heart attacks and stroke.
The unbalanced fraction of two hundred seventy-nine tasks to do over the sixty minutes offered to do them in. Simplify or reduce, depending on when you received your education, and add a decimal rounding up or down...
No more.
Grade or no grade, exam or no exam, I hated math then and still today. I rely on my calculator app to solve any serious number issues. Like my percentage off at Kohls.
Complex mathematics of womanhood ... wants, needs, hopes, dreams, caring for others, faith, education, food, and clothing, are always and only divided by one... You.
Time, dear one, regardless of how many lies you create while sucking down an energy shot is Sixty seconds, Sixty minutes, Twenty-four hours in a single day.
No more, no less. No saving or pausing.... tick, tick, tick...
Forget maximizing your minutes.....
Do what you love,
Do little to no harm,
Give back and savor,
Be grateful for every precious minute.
And from time to time...
Sip lemonade in a pretty spot simply for the shear joy of doing so.
Chat Soon~ Laura
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