The Speed of Life - A Review

Hi, I’m writing this on Sunday. It’s 1 am. In 12 hours I’m having a going away party. A lot of the best people in my life are going to be there. People who I love, and trust, and want the best for. A day after that, I’m going to start packing. I’m going to do it slowly, over three nonconsecutive days. You see, I have to take my time because I’ve always been the sentimental type. For example, I made my friend a little origami rabbit three months ago, it’s still sitting on my desk.

Looking at it makes me happy. It reminds me of how I messed up the first time, and couldn’t get the rabbit to look right. And then I did it again, but had to use smaller paper. It’s got small stains on it, because earlier that day I was drawing with some markers he lent me. They rubbed off on my hands and a few hours later were pressed into the paper bunny.

See? I'm sentimental. So, while I'm filling the two suitcases that will contain everything I'm bringing to New York I'm going to have to be careful not to fill it completely with paper bunnies. I can make more.

People always tell me that life moves fast. One of my professors called youth a “blink-and-you missed-it” moment. But I’ve been young for twenty-three years. I’ve lived every one of those days, hours, minutes, seconds. Not a single second felt faster than any of the others.

I don’t know why, but I really resist the idea of time moving faster. I hate it. You can hold the opinion that it does, that won’t bother me, I won’t fight you. But my time? It’s a constant. You can set your watch on it.

After I’m done packing? I don't know. I'll try writing the blogs for Friday, Monday, and Wednesday. If I don't have inspiration? I'll probably go for a run. After that, I’m probably going to sit on the floor and pet Baxter and Cashew until they get tired of it (they won’t). The next day, I’m going to hug them goodbye and fly to Utah. I’ll be there for five days. There, I will take my time to relax and enjoy what can be considered my last “free” vacation, my last days as a freelancer, my last days working under my own guide.

Every one of those days is going to be dedicated to having fun and destressing before the big one. Because on the 1st of October, I’ll be flying back to Murrieta. When I land, I’ll eat food with my mom or maybe some friends if they find the time. I’ll go home to my dogs. And I’ll probably make some excuse to go to my room, and I’ll probably cry.

After that, I’m going to take every second over the next 48 hours to be with the people I love more than anything. And each second is going to be the exact same length. Each moment will measure up to the rest. And I’m going to do my best to smile for all of them.

I’m not meaning to be melodramatic. But one hour ago I said my first goodbye to a dear friend I’ve known for a long time. One I rarely see. And it hurt in a way I didn’t expect. I’m going to feel that same feeling times thirty later today. Times a hundred eight days after that. And then at an exponentially impossible quantity on the 3rd.

When I get on the plane, I won’t have the time to be sad anymore. Once I’m boarded, my carry-on is stowed in the overhead compartments, and my personal item is stored flat under the seat in front of me, I’m going to breathe a long breath. And prepare to live every second of the 11 hours of flights and layovers to get to New York. When I land, I’m going to uber to my apartment. I’m probably going to wake up my new roommates, fumbling with my luggage up three flights of stairs. I’ll greet them, all of us bleary eyed and tired. And that’ll be my first step into whatever life is going to throw at me.

It’s not a new life. The time was, is, and will be continuous. Everything that existed before, continues to exist. And everything that has yet to come, is still on its way. And I’m going to do my best to be ready for it. Just like yesterday.

These blogs are being written in advance because I’m worried life might finally speed up like everyone promised. When you’re reading this, I’ll probably be at the San Diego airport. But tonight, I'm in my room. I’m worried I won’t have enough time to have one of these ready Wednesday afternoon. So, after I finished the blog you read on Monday. I started writing this one. I’m still there, emotionally, in that blog. I haven’t even said my goodbyes yet.

Anyway. It’s late. Pretty soon here, I’ve got a party to go to. I better try to get some sleep.

Thanks for reading.