Occasionally The Sultanette manages to steal a frivolous New York minute from writing for hire (marketing haiku) grocery shopping (martini olives, mayonnaise, mouthwash) pushups at the gym (really?) and the naughty demands of The Male Harem (Behave!) to read the morning paper.
Given this overextended lifestyle, imagine my surprise when I learned upon reading a June 19, piece in the Wall Street Journal by Eric Morath, A Day in the Life: More Rest, Less Work, that according to a Labor Department survey the rest of America is on sabbatical.
I put it to you, fellow over-worked, sleep-deprived followers: Do you know anyone who works just 3 hours and 28 minutes a day and logs in 8 hours and 44 minutes of sleep? Okay that’s an average taken from age fourteen, and includes weekdays and weekends, but it’s 10 minutes more sleep than 2003. This prompts The Sultanette to add another 5 minutes to the snooze alarm just to catch up with the national average.
To be fair, when limiting the stats to anyone still employed work time leaps to 7 hours, 33 minutes a day – just a minute less than 2003. But if these roustabouts are only on the job a minute less, why the indolent excuse for 10 minutes more sleep? The answer may be found in America’s #1 hobby as identified by the survey: watching television. That 2 hours, 46 minute glued to the tube must be exhausting.
Of course the recession is cited as a significant influence in the decrease of working hours but a more insidious culprit is the “greying” American – 8,000 of them recklessly turning 65 every single day. Are you sitting down, Baby Boomers? Probably not, because you’re playing shuffleboard. Yes, that’s right. According to The Journal, “Many of those individuals are retired or working part time and thus have more time to sleep, watch television, play shuffleboard and other nonwork activities.”
The Sultanette admits to a few grey hairs slyly concealed applying methods pushed by our youth-obsessed culture (this summer I‘ve gone “Riviera Blond”) but had I been on the calling list of one of those Labor Department survey representatives, I would have given him a reality check: “Like, hello! … I’m having the best sex I’ve ever had in my life? Like, you think multiple-orgasms are a walk in the park?”
But America’s youth to the rescue. Apparently our Millennials are taking advantage of the lack of opportunity in the workforce to get smarter. The Journal reports that “Younger people with shaky job prospects are spending more time in college and less working, perhaps reflected by Americans’ spending an extra minute a day on education.”
When you consider other areas that have lost traction on the daily agenda, a minute extra for higher education looks pretty good. The Journal reports that “other types of leisure” that have edged down since 2003 include “reading, socializing in person [that would be with people as opposed to handheld devices] and taking a second to think.” I think therefore I … sorry, your time is up!
As for the other 19 hours, 3 minutes when we’re not sleeping, working, or watching Game of Thrones, the survey tabulated men’s weekend activities. (Either they didn’t bother to account for women’s leisure time or it’s TSTM). The Journal reports that males spend 38 minutes “playing videogames and other ‘computer use for leisure,’ which includes posting pictures on Facebook and mindless surfing the Web.” Since other surveys have reported that thoughts of sex enter the male’s mind every 7 seconds, The Sultanette postulates that “computer use for leisure” doesn’t include Googling lawn mowers unless Trixie is riding on it.
So what are we doing with the rest of our lives? To keep The Male Harem on the cutting edge of the cultural conversation, I’ve invited a guest blogger to share his timely thoughts – Lucius Annaeus Seneca.
Born around 4 B.C. without the advantages of tweets or blogs, Lucius settled for marketing his thoughts in dialogues and letters. He wrote the dialogue quoted here, On the Shortness of Life, in his late-forties. By then he’d negotiated a double career in the courts and politics of Rome, was a celebrity author and dramatist, and had spent eight years in exile over spats with Caligula and Claudius. It was most likely written after he was recalled and appointed tutor to the boy, Nero, who would later implicate him in the assassination plot that compelled him to commit suicide. Quite a CV.
“It’s not that we have a short time to live,” he muses to his friend, Paulinus, “but that we waste a lot of it.” Not unlike the U.S. Department of Labor survey, Seneca bids Paulinus to “hold an audit of your life. Reckon how much of your time has been taken up by a money-lender, how much by a mistress, a patron, a client, quarrelling with your wife, punishing your slaves, dashing about the city on your social obligations.”
So not much has changed over 2000 years in the way we spend our time. And if you think Seneca was only referring to those dashing around the forum, here’s what he had to say about slackers: “Some men are preoccupied even in their leisure: in their country house, on their couch, in the midst of solitude, even when quite alone, they are their own worst company. You could not call theirs a life of leisure but an idle preoccupation.”
Anyone who’s spent a weekend in the Hamptons knows from whence he speaks. “If such people want to know how short their lives are,” Seneca concludes, “let them reflect how small a portion is their own.”
One may have hoped that after 2000 years of reflection we’d have figured out how to own more of it. But from Seneca to Oprah we seem to have lost time rather than gained it. Where do we find a minute between work and sleep, between due diligence and indigence, loving and quarrelling, punishment and indulgence, idleness and dashing about to figure out what part of life is ours?
After I left One&Only, it felt like time became unhinged. We had settled into the shared New York life of the Friday night movie, the neighborhood restaurant, couple meet-ups, Sundays in Central Park, shared families and family holidays. It was predictable, easy, comforting – a warm quilt of companionship for sixteen years. Until it wasn’t. Girlfriends advised me to stick it out. Men are dense, they said, he’d do what he was told. But something told me otherwise. I still don’t know how I left or completely understand why. But I knew I wouldn’t have figured it out in 2000 years.
“A mind that remains in its senses,” Seneca says, “cannot reach any lofty and difficult height: it must desert that usual track and race away, champing the bit and hurrying its driver in its course to a height it would have feared to scale by itself.”
Life with The Male Harem isn’t predictable or easy and there is no safety net except for me. But I own a bigger portion everyday. Maybe that can happen under the quilt. Maybe it can get too comfortable to care if it does.
So further inspired by Seneca I’m off on another track. This Fourth of July The Sultanette boards a high-speed Amtrak to spend a solo weekend (no harem member allowed) in Washington D.C. where I’ll ponder what would have been the twentieth anniversary with One&Only and celebrate my independence from the tyranny of time.
Other than staying at the former digs of James Monroe the plan is no plan. No agenda except to find the gap between minutes. The fringe between the throngs. To see how those who get less than 8 hours and 44 minutes of sleep a night celebrate the day that gave us a whole country to free ourselves in. It might be crazy but I know something about being unhinged now.
If I have time, I’ll tell you all about it.