I have a Love-Hate relationship with time.

For a period, time was a friend, an ally that helped me get over something I’d rather forget, like a relationship given up for the sake of growth or some other BS reason. ‘Time heals all wounds’ is an old cliche that I tell people looking for advice on how to get over their broken relationships.

It’s like every day, we wake up and start anew. It takes more and more effort to remember the things that pushed us to almost give up on life a few days ago. Sleep erases the more destructive things from our minds when we succumb to it, like our spirit’s built-in defense against self-destruction. This is related to my theory of sleeplessness during depression. It’s as if we know that when we sleep, we will forget the more salient stuff about why we’re depressed. For some perverted reason, people need to fuel their anger, which will miraculously disappear if we take care of ourselves a little more.

Time became the enemy for me when I let myself be eaten up by lethargy. I was in a dead-end job that paid me less than the price of peanuts for everything I put out, but I didn’t mind because I was too afraid to venture out. In the process, I let time lull me into a fake sense of comfort, not knowing that the more I let my talent die, the more I lost the urge to cultivate it. And before I knew it, I became an aging geek in denial who realized too late that a rut job is no better than a rut relationship; it sucks up your energy ’til you don’t have any left for anything else.

This diatribe of sorts was influenced in part by an advertiser’s request to choose a watch from their Tag Heuer line and share it with my readers. I chose this pink beauty.