Despite the fact that I didn't have time to do it, I met a long-lost friend for a chat today.

I was twenty minutes late because my GPS took me to a house seven miles from the coffeeshop.

I burst through the door, beyond stressed, to see her cheerfully sitting there waiting, looking as chill and summery as a blossom.

We ended up talking for about an hour, and as our conversation wore on, I felt my pulse slowing from the being-late thing and the never-enough-time thing and enjoying the breeze and the sunshine and thinking how wise this friend was with all she had learned over the past year.

We talked about our ex-mutual workplace and the trade-off between time and money. Sometimes money equals time and sometimes time equals money and sometimes, though very rarely, they have nothing to do with each other.

While I still very much like money, I like it mostly because it means I can pay someone else to do the stuff I don't want to do so I have more time. It all keeps going back to time. I want time. I crave time. There seems to be no time. How does that happen? I looked recently at how I spent my day and tried to figure out what I did that was unnecessary. I came up with watering the flowers. Of course, if I stopped, they would die, but then I have to figure out how much I value the flowers -- which I think is a lot, because they bring me happiness and a sense of accomplishment.

So really, not that much is unnecessary.

So I'm starting to think time is the new money. What do you think? Which is more valuable to you right now?

Is this because I'm getting close to forty?