I'm not entirely sure if this title is meant literally or sarcastically. Perhaps a little of both. I would surely like to fast forward a bit to spring break (1.5 weeks!) and then to summer (omg summer...a REAL break...) and then of course to June 29, 2012.
However, at the same time, I look at the calendar and realize that it's March 22nd. It's 9 pm on March 22nd, so it's really almost March 23rd. MARCH 23RD! When did this happen? It was just New Year's Eve when I was sitting in the living room consuming copious amounts of pizza and cookies and some form of alcohol (though not as much as one would thing for a New Year's celebration) and ringing in 2011. I was just in Solvang for the last week of winter break consuming truly copious amounts of wine. When did this happen?
Time really does fly as you get older. And I'm only 25. I just got engaged, just started planning my wedding, and have my whole life in front of me. And yet, I fear the ever-increasing speed that time will begin to take as it races past me.
And so I ask myself: Why on earth am I constantly looking toward the next thing? Why am I so incapable of living in the moment and enjoying EVERY moment that God gives me? On Sunday nights I'm bummed about Monday (and about the rest of the week, for that matter). On Monday I'm glad it's done but still bummed that we aren't closer to Friday. And so it goes until Thursday afternoon when I'm pretty stoked for the next day: the always glorious Friday. But then, Friday is over and done and it's Saturday, and then that's done and lo and behold, we have Sunday. It's frightening how quickly it goes. And so I ask myself again: Why on earth can't I pause and reflect on my life and how awesome it is and how I have so many wonderful opportunities and wonderful people surrounding me?
I actually think about this quite often, but in a superficial way. I think, "Melissa, you need to stop looking ahead to weekends and start just loving the moment." But apparently this is much easier said than done. I think I've gotten a lot better since January when I adopted a more "whatever," go-with-the-flow attitude at work. And probably even better since breaking away from ballet. I'm reading more, sleeping more, and stressed less.
I guess it's a process. A life-long process, more like. I certainly don't want to be 30 and wonder what happened to my twenties, those precious "best years of your life."
Something to think about.