When I was young I was impatient. I couldn’t wait to be 13, then 16, then 18, then 21. I couldn’t wait to become a teenager, to drive, to date, to vote, to work, to live on my own. Time moved so slowly, too slowly. It drove me crazy.
Now that I’m in my dotage it’s the exact opposite. I can’t keep up, can’t keep track. The days turn into weeks and months and years and decades way too quickly. It’s not fair, what’s the rush?
Why can there be no happy medium?
Don’t bother trying to come up with an answer. It’s one of those Continue reading