Why Work For A Living?

So this past week, my next-door neighbor had his grass taken out and replaced with river rock. (I use the term “grass” loosely as it really was a garden of weeds). The new landscaping looks nice—not that I feel compelled to copy it, I like having a lawn. Still, the neighbor’s yard looks pretty good.

I said as much to the landscaper as he was finishing up. After thanking me, the man said my neighbor had told him he’d gotten tired of watering and mowing and thought the rock would be easier to maintain.

This was news to me. What watering and mowing? I’ve lived beside the guy for years and never known him to do either. He usually waits until it gets hot, cuts down the knee-high weeds with a weed eater and that’s that. Nothing grows again until the next year. Not that I care, it’s his house, he can do what he wants. I just found it odd that the reasoning behind putting in rock was to save work that he doesn’t do.

So, that got me thinking. If I could figure out a way to get paid to save myself work that I don’t do, I could retire early. Like tomorrow. It wouldn’t even be that difficult. And I could increase my net worth every time I came up with something else that I didn’t do—and then find a way to not do it better. I’d also simultaneously be increasing the amount of free time I had. It’s a win-win!

So, if anyone needs me, I’ll be out of touch for a while, pondering the various possibilities. They are seemingly endless. I’m not sure why I haven’t thought of any of this before but I guess I was too busy—working. ~

Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, The Lana Denae Mysteries, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook at www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS and paperback on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Books-a-Million. Bruce A. Borders is a proud member of Rave Reviews Book Club.

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Not Enough Time

This post will be a bit more serious than what I normally write. No, it’s not about politics or anything controversial, but the humorous aspect that is usually infused into my blog posts is taking a temporary vacation this week. Guess I’m just feeling a little nostalgic.

Recently, I ran across a publication with an article I’d written. This was from 18 years ago and I found that nothing much has changed in nearly two decades. What I wrote then still describes my daily routine. I’ve included some excerpts from that article below.

I’m in a hurry—again. I’m always in a hurry. From the time I get up in the morning until I go to bed at night, it seems as though there is never quite enough time to accomplish everything I’ve set out to do that day. Thus, I have become a procrastinator. Certain things deemed unimportant at the moment are relegated to that vast expanse of time known as tomorrow, a realm where the constraints of hours and minutes have not yet gotten a grasp. But of course, tomorrow is only a figment of the imagination, just a place in my mind that never actually becomes a reality. For with each new day, I must once again decide what to do and what to leave undone, until my life has developed into a pattern. A pattern which leads to giving up this to get that, trading one thing for another, sacrificing here in order to gain there and so on, all for the sake of time.

Time is the great equalizer. Each of us has been given the same amount of time. Whether young or old, rich or poor, we all have twenty-four hours in a day to achieve our goals. It’s what we do with our time that counts. What do we put off until later? What do we leave for tomorrow? And more importantly, what do we make time for?

People often use as an excuse, “I don’t have time,” which is not entirely true. We always have time for that which we have decided is of the most importance to us. If there isn’t enough time, it’s because we choose to use our time to do something else. We make time for the things really important or needful. The busiest man in the world will always have time to rush his child to the hospital in an emergency. It’s all a matter of perspective.

 After reading what I’d written, I started thinking about how I’d measured up. Had I accomplished anything in the 18 years since this article was published? Looking back, I can say that I’m somewhat satisfied with how I’ve spent my time; I’ve managed to write and publish 16 books, I’ve written over 500 songs—and recorded most of them, I’ve also recorded about three thousand other songs, painted numerous pictures, built furniture, etc. And, with a lot of help from my wife, I’ve raised three children who are autonomous adults, productive members of society, and able to function in a responsible manner. So, on the one hand, I think I’ve used my time wisely. On the other hand, there is still a lot I want to do, a lot I haven’t gotten done because, well, I didn’t make time for it all. Maybe in another 18 years, I’ll revisit the subject. Hopefully, I’ll be a little closer to attaining my goals. ~

Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, The Lana Denae Mysteries, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook at www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS and paperback on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Books-a-Million. Bruce A. Borders is a proud member of Rave Reviews Book Club.

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If I Had A Boat

I’ve never owned a boat. Never wanted to, really. Not that a boat isn’t fun, or that I’m afraid of the water. I just always figured a boat was a hassle I didn’t need. Sort of like a car; three’s the cost of maintaining it, putting gas and oil in it, and a lot of other associated costs—except I need a car, well, pickup in my case, I guess, but the idea is the important thing.

But aside from all of that, I don’t really have time to spend trolling around—or speeding around—in a boat. Things to do, you know: like go to work. So, no time for a boat.

The reason I bring this up is because, this past week, on my way to work, a woman at the gas station made it a point to ask me if I had a boat. I should point out that this lady was not working at the station, not really sure what she was doing there, I guess. Just a crazy lady hanging around to bug customers, I think. When I told her I did not have a boat, she looked stunned. “Why not”

“Don’t want one, and don’t need one.”

“But if you had a boat you could take me out in it,” she informed me.

Now, I’m not exactly prone to being the social type in the first place. Even it f I had a boat, I wouldn’t be taking a lot of people out in it, especially not crazy people. “Could, I suppose. But wouldn’t.”

“Why?”

“Better things to do than take people boating,” I said, and then got in my pickup and closed the door. (Oh, yeah, I’m not exactly prone to being real conversational with strange people at the gas station either. Some call me rude; I prefer to characterize it as blunt).

The lady got the hint and moved on to talk to the guy on the other side of the island, presumably to ask him about a boat. As I left the station, I thought to myself, I think I just found another excellent reason to never own a boat: all the crazy people inviting themselves out on it.

So, just in case anyone is wondering, no, I do not own a boat. ~

Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, The Lana Denae Mysteries, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook at www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS and paperback on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Books-a-Million. Bruce A. Borders is a proud member of Rave Reviews Book Club.

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That's Just Sick

Thought I’d made it through this winter without getting sick. The horrible flu everyone has been talking about somehow evaded me. People all around were sick, sometimes for weeks, but I just kept going apparently unaffected by it all. Until last week.

I noticed on Monday that I was extremely tired. Odd because I’d gotten more sleep than usual the two previous nights. Tuesday, things turned a little worse and I knew I was getting sick. I started gulping large amounts of water, juice, and Gatorade. These helped somewhat but by Wednesday night, I knew I’d lost the battle.

I stayed home from work Thursday, something I rarely do. In fact I’ve only called in sick once before, twice if you count when I was in the hospital. But that one wasn’t really up to me, so I don’t count it.

Friday came and feeling a little better, I went to work—only to stop in the middle of my run to go home. Saturday wasn’t any better. Actually, it was probably worse. Sunday continued the same way. I’ll spare everyone the details, as I’m sure everyone knows what being sick is like. The problem for me is I’d never been that sick for that many days in my life. Usually, the bad part, the debilitating part, lasts only a day or two. The rest of the time is no picnic but bearable. Not this time, unfortunately.

By Sunday night, I was thankfully feeling much better. Good thing, I have a blog to write. Haven’t done a thing all week so I’m sure writing and posting this will wear me out. So, I’m going to wrap it up. Sorry I had nothing interesting to report but as you can see, the only thing on my mind all week has been this sick idea of writing about my unhealthy health. ~

Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, The Lana Denae Mysteries, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook at www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS and paperback on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Books-a-Million. Bruce A. Borders is a proud member of Rave Reviews Book Club.

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