The remains of the day

The days seem to just fly by lately. Well sometimes. Some days I look at my watch and I can't believe that it's already time for dinner. Other days I look at my watch and I can't believe that it's only time for lunch. I suppose this was also true at home, but the passage of time is so much more palpable here, so much more meaningful. Tim and I both feel pressure to make the most of the time we do have: to use, enjoy, embrace, and engage at every opportunity, to seize every moment because they are quantifiably limited. For Tim, this is even more true, as there are great expectations for his dissertation research. Last night he said "it's already the middle of January" while expressing concern that he was going to run out of time to accomplish all that he hopes. This afternoon he said "We're only just starting our third week," when asked how we were settling in. One year is a long time to feel like you have a very short time.

In the remains of the day, however, when Eleanor's asleep, the dishes are done and the house is quiet we find time to steal away and correspond with family and friends, engage a good book (or an okay book that's related to research), or sip a glass of scotch and compare notes from the day and it's then that time seems to just stand still. And we are replenished.
-kjd