The pace of passing time

I had the sudden realisation that it's December today. Ok, I knew it was December already, but I didn't know it, in so far as I didn't appreciate it's implications - Christmas shopping aside, I haven't really given much thought to the season so far, or the fact that the year is nearing it's end. One of the strange things about my keeping any form of diary (which I've decided this is kind of) is that when I read over what I've written about events that happened even a week or two back, I seem to remember them happening much longer ago than they actually did. Similarly the last few months seem far more distant than they probably should. Not that it means much other than I've been spending too much time looking backwards and forwards (and upwards and downwards and sideways and slantwards) and consequently ignoring my more immediate morrows.

Quite possibly I simply need to spend some time to take stock and reflect on matters nearer at hand. A few days off work at Christmas will hopefully provide that, assuming I can escape the general chaos that still erupts once every year at home when there are presents to be opened. Actually, that's quite a big assumption, but I'm sure I'll be able to squeeze some quality me time in there somewhere.