It's been a recurring refrain recently, coming mostly from people who are older than I. However, I don't feel like I have a lot of time. Is it strange to have aging and the drumbeat of time constantly on my mind the last few days--I mean, to the extent that I start comparing metaphors for old age in my head as if I were trying to write my autobiography already: a worn-out tennis shoe, a threadbare couch...? I don't know why but memory loss and gray hair never felt so close.
But the merit of these thoughts is typically evaluated on the basis of the context. When I'm talking about school and graduating from Western, I can tend to be the one who thinks: "You've got time Mark." But when it comes to other issues, more long-range personal goals intrinsic to growing up, I tend to be the one protesting that very line when I hear it repeated by well-intending friends.
Twenty-two, with an almost-degree--the conclusion of which tends to move into the future swiftly ahead of me--a full-time job and plenty of responsibilities and extras to distract me from aforementioned conclusion...
Where will I be in 5 years? I can hardly guess. I remember someone once told me that the books you read and the friends you have are the best measure of where you will be in that amount of time. By the book-estimation alone, I would be going nowhere since I don't seem to have much time for reading now.
There, now you've got your daily shot of morbid anticipation. Enjoy the rest of your day.