On September 11th 2001 I stopped wearing a watch. I’ve never worn one since that day. It wasn’t a symbolic gesture because of the events in New York and Washington although undoubtedly they had some impact on a complex decision.

David and I were away on holiday at the time, staying with Claire & Gary in Melton Mowbray. We were ambling around their house with the TV on in the background when the news came through of the first strike, of course no-one realised at the time that it was a terrorist attack or what terrible events would follow. For those first few minutes it was ‘just’ a disaster.

As the situation became clear and the subsequent events were broadcast to a world aghast with shock and horror at what had happened, we sat and watched. In the space of a few short minutes, all our worlds were turned upside down. Things have never been the same since. Of course it would be naïve to think they would.

The remainder of our holiday was spent cycling, playing with the dogs and for me, cooking – that’s one of the ‘deals’ for Claire and Gary who work long hours in the kennels so I cook their meals for them while we are there. It’s back to that same old primal instinct in me to ‘nurture’ those people who are dear to me. There was a tenseness to the world for the remainder of that week. As we cycled round the perimeter of Rutland Water on a grey and sometimes drizzly day (17 miles I think) we were very conscious of the RAF jets screaming overhead, fully laden with missiles – not a sight you often see here in the UK.

My decision to stop wearing a watch happened on that day at least partially coincidentally and it’s one of my few little acts of defiance, in an otherwise terribly conformist life. I stopped because I wanted to say ‘I won’t be beholden to time’. In fact, that’s not true, I’m so time hungry and am always dashing everywhere with never enough hours in any of my days. Somehow though, not wearing a watch makes me feel as though I’m a different person (as in not ME), one who doesn’t need to think about it. I think the events of the day cemented my need to feel as though I wasn’t scurrying around with too much to do to live my life. I’ve said many times in this forum that I need to feel as though I’m worth something more than simply a workhorse.

Of course it’s all a bit academic – there are clocks everywhere I go – there are several in the house, one in the car, one on my PC at work, one on my PC at home (that’s perpetually five minutes slow and I've no idea how to sort that). I have a clock on my mobile phone so I’m never too far away from a clock to see the time if need be.

I also have an extraordinary body clock. One that knows the time almost to the last minute, just because I do. I wake naturally, just before the alarm goes off almost every day, I know when to put down pbase and go and cook (probably about now), I know when to go to bed.

I do rely on certain clocks and this is one of them. It’s the clock tower in Epsom, newly refurbished and gleaming and looking rather splendidly Victorian Gothic with the menacing black clouds behind it. I’m glad it’s back in action because there is a clear line of sight to it along Epsom High Street so I can always see if I’ve become too distracted by something when I’m on my way out to buy some lunch. That’s particularly relevant at the moment as I’m on an endless mission to find lunches with no calories!!!

So, I haven’t worn a watch for more than two and a half years so I can feel gloriously unburdened by time and although I know in my heart that I live a complete lie on this subject, I still regard it as a triumphant thumbing of my nose to conformity.