I get for my entire work life, only about 80,000 hours,
To save a few for leisure, I spend the rest behind bars.
If I want to keep earning the hours, even in the age of AI,
I'd better accommodate all demands, and to disconnect, say bye.
I sometimes steal some time, for self-care and rest,
The justification- it makes me efficient, it's all for the best.
Almost regularly on weekends, I'm handed an extra stash,
Anxiety grips how to spend it- it better be thoughtful, not brash.
Sometimes I'm able to earn some time, by outsourcing petty works,
I could use it in theory to write poems, but always the danger lurks,
That I would not have invested well, made a wrong call, traded short,
With a limited supply of time, would have offended the Time God.
Maybe time doesn't come, at the end, from a store,
Maybe time, perhaps means, a little bit more.
