The value of time

I'm not sure since when I became fixated with the idea of not wasting a second of my time, perhaps sometime in Year 12 at school, ironically a time in most people's lives when time wasting is quite common place. I on the other hand started to regard myself as some sort of time-is-money, I-leave-set-times-in-the-day-to-feel-genuine-human-emotion City high flyer. Now this attitude might have helped me over the course of my life but to calculate the benefits accrued I would have to spend considerable time conjuring some mind boggling mathematical formula, which in most likely circumstances I will not be able to do and will quite likely end up wasting a lot of time, possibly my whole life, pursuing. What is more easily calculable however is the anxiety this attitude has afforded me, and how it has turned me into one of the London commuter flock, cursing Jesus, Mohammed, Buddha and the government in one breath at the announcement of a delayed train or at the sight of building traffic. An obsession with time saving is undoubtedly a modern fixation, it's hard to envisage the ancient man looking impatiently at his watch and cursing the fact he is missing the 9.20 train to Gravesend while waiting around for his prey to show signs of weakness and then striking. Patience is a hard thing to find in modern life or at least in my life, and I think I will spend some time trying to get it.