Tick-Tock, Tick-Tock, Goes the Merry-Go-Round of the Clock (1)

It strikes! one, two,

Three, four, five, six. Enough, enough, dear watch,
Thy pulse hath beat enough. Now sleep and rest;
Would thou could'st make the time to do so too;
I'll wind thee up no more.

~Ben Jonson

How many a nights after days of whirl-wind madness; of juggling a job, family and kids or whatever else there is to do, , do we drag our tired body into bed, only to find that no sooner do we lay our head down on the pillow only to hear the alarm go off, signaling that it was time for the marathon to start again. It seems as though we are constantly on a moving treadmill, never enough time to catch our breath.

My neighbor, who lives above me, has a grandfather clock. Its gong can be heard every hour on the hour. After so many years, I've gotten used to it. At 5 a.m. she wakes, rises gets ready to go to work. As I plugged in my coffee, I could hear her move about to and fro, across the squeaking wood floors, zigzagging back and forth like the swinging pendulum on her clock. At precisely 5:45 a.m., she would rush out the door, walking the five blocks to catch the 6:00 a.m. bus going to the Port Authority in Manhattan. She is a creature of habit. As we all are, in bondage, bound to time.

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