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Next week my time is no longer purely my own as I will have to plan my hours around teaching. On Monday the semester begins and while I enjoy interacting with students it will challenge my time-keeping skills and night-owl habits.

But I still have three days to be as frivolous with my time as I like, so I have decided to savour the freedom this holds and enjoy my very own unique brand of time-keeping.

Now this doesn’t mean I have nothing to do, quite the opposite my stack of corrections is growing not shrinking, and rightfully accuse me of neglect. Then there are courses to prepare, emails, blogs and reviews to write and mundane household chores to attend to. I also have  a few projects I want to do and I would love to try out my new flash and micro-lenses, I am reading a good book and want to curl up for a few hours with tea and tales. But it means I can sit and type at 2am if I please and have a lie in tomorrow, eat dinner way to late and maybe enjoy breakfast at noon.

I have never found it easy to abide by the time-schedule our society imposes on us, I have never quite understood why  we are meant to work from nine to five, go to bed early and rise early. Maybe I lack the discipline, maybe my my inner clock is just wound differently or maybe my mind enjoys the midnight-waking hours, but either way my time never seems to fit in with society.

So to celebrate my last few days of frivolous freedom I will live by my own inner clock, be free from convention and enjoy not needing to be on time. But on Monday, like the white rabbit in Alice in Wonderland, I will be wielding my watch and muttering “I’m late, I’m late ! For a very important date. No time to say ‘Hello, Goodbye’.  I’m late, I’m late, I’m late.”

My 1960s wall-clock I bought for £5 and fixed up. At least something pretty dictates my time!

My 1960s wall-clock I bought for £5 and fixed up. At least something pretty dictates my time!