I am not allowed to “waste” time anymore. 

I’m seventeen. Any and all free time I have is to be spent studying for my AP and honors courses. I’m meant to spend every dull moment of the day sitting at my piano, it's an investment in my future career, right? And certainly, if I have a spare hour here or there it’s natural I find a job.

Time is money. 

Time is money. 

Time is money. 

TIME IS MONEY.

So I’m not allowed to “waste” my time. 

I’m not going into clothing design. I’m not selling clothes. So I’m not allowed to spend hours of my Saturday learning how to sew a circle skirt for the first time. . . . . .but did you know that it’s actually really easy? Did you know that seamstresses use a lot of math? And it’s math you can wear. How cool is that? Not cool. . .not cool because once I’m done I won’t be able to put that on a resume. 

So I’m not allowed to “waste” my time.

I’m not a historian. I don’t plan to become one. So I shouldn’t spend hours with Ella looking through old encyclopedias from the sixties. But how was I supposed to know we’d find thirty years worth of old newspaper clippings? Articles that range from gardening to lung cancer to suicide to Dear Abby segments. Oh and the story they told. We laid it all out in order. We researched the newspaper they were from and even the line of encyclopedias we found them in. It was like looking through a window into someone else's life--someone we don’t even know! And it was. . . .it was stupid. Because I could have been finishing my Chemistry homework.

So I’m not allowed to “waste” my time.

I’ve been told over and over that human connection is important, but I see my family and classmates everyday. That’s enough. So long walks with Amelia in October are certainly a huge waste of time. Though of course. . .one time while we were looking at the leaves together she tried to guess my favorite color. In a burst of excitement she shouted out, “Yellow!” with an enormous smile on her face. Just between you and me, I didn’t have a favorite color before that. . .but how could I tell her she guessed wrong? With a laugh, I told her she was right. (I haven’t been able to look at yellow the same since.) But I should have been practicing my piano. Black and white keys. Black and white music. Black and white feelings. That’s what time well spent looks like.

Time is all I have. Time is a gift, a tool, and a trap. When activities like sewing, solving mysteries, and falling in love make me feel like time stops, then I’ve failed.

Because time is money.

And I’m not allowed to waste time anymore.