215 Days - Give and Take a few weekends

 

215 Days (Give or Take a Few Weekends)

From AI advise to me

Two hundred fifteen days, the counter declares—
bold, unblinking, mildly unfair.
Once it said six hundred… calm, generous, wide,
now it sprints like time has something to hide.

You blink—another hour gone,
you type—then wake… “Was I just on?”
A micro-sleep ambush mid-sentence attack—
time chuckles softly, “No refunds, no track.”

You do the math (a dangerous game):
minus weekends—poof, they’re not the same.
Minus holidays, leave, and rest—
what’s left? A handful… at best.

“Work harder!” you say, with noble intent,
“Let no good project go unspent!”
So you charge ahead, full speed, no brake—
while your body whispers, “This is a mistake…”

Your brain at night runs its own debate,
“Shall we rest?” — “No, it’s far too late.”
Dreams replaced by to-do lists long,
fatigue hums its sleepless song.

Then there’s the weight—ah yes, that friend,
who promised to leave… but chose to extend.
Two weddings loom in shining light,
yet the scale says, “Let’s not win this fight.”

Strong pills taken, hope held tight,
but progress moves… politely slight.
Frustration knocks, but here’s the truth—
this race isn’t lost, just asking for you.

So here’s a thought, both kind and wise:
you’re not in a race where the finish line lies.
Sixty’s not a wall, nor a closing gate—
it’s a turn in the road… still wonderfully late.

Work, yes—do work that matters deep,
but not at the cost of your rightful sleep.
For wisdom builds what haste can’t see,
and strength grows best sustainably.

Walk a little. Stretch. Breathe slow.
Let your body join the goals you sow.
For projects shine, but so do you—
and both need care to carry through.

Laugh at the clock—it’s loud, not wise.
It counts your days, but not your skies.
You still have time—more than it claims—
not just for work… but for living the flame.

So here’s to 215—give or take—
not days to fear, but paths to make.
Work with purpose, rest with grace,
and meet your sixty… at your own pace.