Time Stops For No Belle

As a child, time is pretty irrelevant:
It's either your birthday or it isn't.
It's either bedtime or it's not.
It's either bathtime or the end of the world, who can tell with all the screaming and crying?

As a teenager, you measure your life according to school time:
School starts in 2 weeks.
15 minutes until lunch.
Prom is less than a month away.

Once into adulthood, time is the enemy, and work it's weapon:
4 days to the big presentation.
11 months and 29 days till the next pay raise.
5 weeks before unemployment runs out.

And occasionally time is measured by Bridget Jones
(or, how much weight you can lose how fast):
2 months until the Conference
2 years until the Reunion
2 soon to Thirty (or Forty)

I suffer from Scarlett Syndrome.
It may be another day, but tomorrow catches up quickly.

I could start an exercise and healthy living blog. It would be very simple really. Set up a lovely template and watch it get dusty, with cobwebs in the corners. Or I could just fake it (ahem) and put up impressive stats and shots stolen from maxim.com.
Anybody know Photoshop?

Thankfully the stress of the teen years is over (but not forgotten) and bedtime is when I say it is. But those last three are creeping up a lot faster than I would like.
Where the hell did the month of July go?
Did it take a vacation and not get another month to cover for it?
Who approved this time off anyway?