What Time is it?

Time is an amazing phenomenon. I became friends with time in the delivery room and we haven't parted since. During labour i begged time for reassurance and pleaded for it's speed. I was consumed by time: the timing of contractions, breathing, pain. At times time stopped, as it was, in my mind. I became nauseated just thinking about time, and when my baby girl was delivered, time and i became even closer: "1 o'clock, feed her, burp her, change her ", "3 o'clock, repeat diapering, feeding and changing", "take a 30minutes nap and repeat procedure", "take a quick shower between baby's nap-time and eat, quickly", "limit yourself to your personal space and be sure to sneak in enough naps as time may run-out!"

At fifteen months old, my daughter still takes much of my time, or is it her time? I still chase time, always trying to catch up. Time has become an obsession, another person in the family. There's breakfast, lunch and dinner time, nap time, play time, story time, visiting time.... time is the master and leader. There is never enough time, still, everything takes time. I had never been more time sensitive: i constantly check my watch, CONSTANTLY; i am always in a rush to catch time because i simply cannot afford to waste time. My life sits behind the wheels of a speeding time, and there are no brakes so i cannot stop time! My time isn't my time and her time dominates all times. I resent time, but i need time as without time i would be timeless; this is why i cannot waste time.... oh, why did i.... what time is it?