Wednesday, July 11, 2012


I'm at odds with my own beliefs sometimes.  I hear myself announcing obvious statements such as "time flies goes by so fast!" or "How can this year be half over?!"  You know, general whining or better yet, whinging (great word, with its nice chewy g sound in the middle).

If my time-flies edict is true, then why am I so impatient sometimes? Hurry up and get here lunch hour or weekend or trip out of town!  I realize this impatience is the antithesis of zen, of just "being in the moment, man."  I would have made a terrible hippie.  Good thing I was born too late for that. Well, just a little.  Family photo albums reveal in my childhood wardrobe and long hair that I intersected with Era That Won't Go Away (I'll rant on "The 60s" some other time). 

Anyway, where was I?  I suppose I can figure it out for myself that I am the cause of the time-going-by-fast problem with all my finger-drumming and eye-rolling impatience.  I suppose I should ask a relaxed, patient person if she also feels time slips by too quickly?  Two subjects, not a very robust study, I admit, but it's a good first step.

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