When time becomes so incredibly precious that every minute lost feels so stark.
I had booked a kayaking and fishing experience for Bryan’s birthday. My parents were looking after Mason, and we had woken up ridiculously early to make it to East Coast Park. We had barely dragged the kayaks onto the water and paddled for about thirty minutes before it started absolutely pouring.
Leading up to today, I had been checking the weather every so often, hoping that by some stroke of luck it would be sunny.
As we sat under the shelter waiting for the rain to stop, I could almost feel the minutes slipping away. Every minute felt like something I could have spent elsewhere—with my son, with Bryan, working, resting, even just doing nothing. Instead, we were waiting around for a completely optional activity that I had paid money for.
If you’re hoping for a happy ending, there wasn’t one.
The sky eventually cleared, and we did make it back onto the water. But the sea had become so choppy that within the next hour, both of us were throwing up. Eventually I made the call to paddle back to shore and head home instead. At some point, it stopped being about salvaging Bryan’s birthday and became about justifying the money we’d already spent. Sunk cost fallacy in its purest form.
The smell of the garlic-marinated raw prawn bait still lingers in our noses. Safe to say we’ll both be avoiding prawns for the foreseeable future.
After showering, we both passed out on the couch. What I had imagined would be a relaxing Saturday—kayaking, a nice lunch, maybe a movie afterwards—became a day filled with nausea, frustration, and guilt.
Time has never felt so precious, or so scarce: Time with my baby. Time with my husband. Time to work. Time to sleep. Time to zone out.
Lately, every hour - every minute - feels like it belongs to someone or something. If I’m with Mason, I’m not working. If I’m working, I’m not resting. If I’m resting, I wonder if I should be spending that time with Bryan instead. Every choice feels like it is coming at the expense of another.
It feels like the harder I try to make every minute count, the more disappointed I become when life inevitably refuses to cooperate. It has been difficult to accept that some days are simply lost to bad luck. I end up spending even more time calculating what that time could have been.
Ok the end. I’m sad and tired - but i guess sometimes that’s just what it is.
(i know it is just failed plans, and i'm definitely still grateful for the life i have and how privileged/ blessed i am - just a caveat in case lol u know how the internet is)
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