Two beady, burning eyes are peering out at me from the haphazardly strewn surroundings. Seeing how spread apart they are I know the beast is big. Sensing the mood in the air around me I know I am not welcome and the beast considers me a quick snack, or at least an annoying gnat that needs to be swatted. Following the only trail from the general area I turn my back on it. Even at a quick walk it seems forever for me to get to the first turn so I can run without being seen. Just as I make the turn I hear the beast move from its seclusion and start to follow. Running now, I pay attention to the trail ahead to make sure I don’t trip and fall prey to this still unseen prowler. I can feel the thing behind me, every time one of its paws hit the ground I feel it, every time it breaths I have warm gushes of air flow past my cheek. I know it is going to catch me, I know it will. I can hear it crashing through some low hanging obstacles I just passed, paying no heed to the pain they might cause. Do I dare look back? Do I dare take my eyes off the trail and trip on an exposed root? Or should I come full stop and turn in the same movement to face this beast head on? I feel its gnarly whiskers brushing the hairs on my neck and I know my doom is imminent. Each short breath is expressed when each paw hits the ground, vibrating and shuddering the same ground I’m running on. Why doesn’t it just pounce already? I am barely able to make it to a gate and close it, baring the beast from getting to me. Now, now that I am safe, now is the chance to steal a glimpse of this awful creature; this creature that has haunted me for the past few moments, this creature that would have spared me no saving grace had I fallen in our race to a safe hold. What awful creature is this that, even unseen, can make someone run in fear of their life? Now that I can see it clearly I know exactly what beast it is: a deadline.
We all have deadline in our lives. We all have times where we know there is a date in the near future that certain things have to be done or everything after that date will be screwed up and cause all the more work. Most of the time we give them cutsie names like personal goals or official names like project checkpoints; but they are all the same thing, a deadline. We know that the drop dead date for certain events are coming and we all jump up and run around crazy-like to make sure everything is set and ready for said penultimate event. When just the smallest thing is out of place, when a certain order is not followed, when the tiniest hint that something may not make the deadline; all hell breaks loose. Why? In a perfect world there has been planning out the wazoo for this event and everyone involved should know what to do and when to do it. Why, then, do we get all up in arms about it? Because we do not live in a perfect world, instead we get through these deadlines by the skin of our teeth. We procrastinate as long as we can, we play games instead of pulling together information that could help us, and we twiddle our thumbs instead of forcing ourselves to actually work. Then again, too much work and not enough play makes for a very boring day, doesn’t it? For the past few weeks I have been inundated with deadlines both personal and professional. I have not had time to sit back and enjoy otherwise innocuous events around me. This was a good day to reflect on my current life style and how I should take a breather for my self… recharge my soul, as it were.
The alarm goes off as it usually does, but I’m not in bed. I’m sacked out on the couch after letting the dogs out like I do every morning at 4a. Kristin yells for me to get up and get in the shower or we’ll be late. She surprises me and jumps in with me for a little bit. After showering, Kristin gets Nathan up and going for his shower and tries to get Kate and Emma up as well, while I make the ever needed manna called coffee. The girls have been slow getting up lately so that does not actually happen for another 15 minutes or so. Once each child survives the treacherous slumber filled hallways and is able to make it to the kitchen, we sit down to a simple breakfast of cereal or oatmeal or toast, what ever they so choose (and each child is certain to choose differently then the other). Amazingly there are no screams at the breakfast table about who is looking at who, and there are very few whimpers about being awake. I’m looking at something on the computer and getting something together for Nathan’s soccer camp that morning while Kristin is getting clothes for the girls to wear. All-in-all this is starting out to be a good, efficient morning.
I know I need to leave soon because of several upgrades I’m a part of still need to be tested. Before I am able to squeak out the door without a big to-do, though, Emma is on the floor in my way and on her knees looking up at me with her face poking out of the neck hole of her shirt. The way the shirt has bunched up around her face she looks like a lion to me. Once told this she immediately begins to roar like one in between laughing hysterically. Nathan is running around trying to see this lion (continuously under my feet) with a soccer jersey on, no pants to be found, and his soccer ball under his arm. Kate, poor thing, hasn’t quite finished her breakfast so she is not able to take part in the commotion. I tell Emma to go show momma the lion and fuss at Nathan for not having pants on yet. Kate has gotten up from the table to see everything just in time to be under foot as well. I take Nathan’s ball from him so he can find the pants a little faster and, for some reason I still don’t know why, give the ball to Kate. Not thinking about it I tell Kate to put her bowl in the sink. Not wanting to be left out of the fun, I suppose, Kate takes the ball into the kitchen and puts it in the refrigerator and everyone laughs even harder. One of the children even told Kristin that we were running low on soccer balls and that I needed to go to the grocery store to get some more for the fridge like it was a head of lettuce.
Once everything settled down (and Nathan found his pants) we were ready and we all walked out of the house. At work, I had barely enough time to sit down and start up my computer when Kristin calls me from the sitter’s house. The sitter’s car has broken down and she is not able to pick Nathan up from soccer camp, would I be able to. Well, I suppose so, but in the back of my mind I still have deadlines to meet for the upgrades coming up so I will have to cut some time off here or there to make it work. Since I was going to get to spend a little time with Nathan I went ahead and bought him lunch from the cafeteria and plan on eating a quick little picnic somewhere. When I get to the camp to pick him up I see that he is actually playing a fairly decent game of soccer. His team is wearing blue jerseys because they are playing a ‘world cup’ tournament and they are supposed to be Italy. When I got there they were playing Brazil and I don’t know if a bunch of their players on the Brazil team were red-carded or not, but they only had 5 players where as Italy had 9, something didn’t seem quite fair. The ref’s call time and the entire mass of players scatter; since some are half-day campers, like Nathan, they get to go home. Once in the car I decide quickly that it is too hot to picnic today and take him back to the hospital to eat lunch there. It was a good ride to the hospital; we talked about scores and which positions he liked better while he was playing soccer. We eat lunch and Nathan gets to meet a few co-workers and then I take him to the sitter’s house.
Nothing special happened when I got home. The children were bouncing on my bed watching a movie and Kristin was working on school work. Even so, the entire day just made me realize that I’m lucky. I am lucky because I have a family that will support me no matter what. I think this is because I have supported them for a while and they know I will be there for them if truly needed. My life has been crowded with deadlines lately and a little deviation from the plan is not a bad thing.Crazy lion-children and soccer ball filled refrigerators for breakfast and an otherwise stranded child for lunch make for an eventful day that was perfect even if some deadlines were missed and others are still charging down on me. Deadlines will always be there in one form or another. Our days are numbered, much like the little pieces of pottery that are collectible that some of us keep. When our numbers run out there will be no more we can do, and we don’t know what our number is. Best to have fun and love the ones you are with while the numbers are still racking up instead of worrying about them after the numbers are gone. Deadlines will be missed, it is inevitable, but missing a deadline will not be the end of the world (unless you ask Douglas Adams).
