Time, a rant.

Time is so subjective. One minute takes an eternity and the next just a blink of an eye. Time is everywhere. I think that is why it's so hard to talk about. Our language is dependent on a linear progression of this thing we call time. But what is it really? I knew what it was until I started to try to talk about it. Now, I'm not so sure. Some days I think I think too much. This seems to be one of those days.

I can't help but wonder what I'm doing. I find myself wishing for time to pass faster, and then I step back and wonder if I'm wishing my life away. Not only is time mysterious, but it is clearly limited. We have no idea exactly how much we have, but we're all certain that some day, some time, our time will run out. So as I sit here at work, wasting time and watching it pass, I worry that there is something more important that I should be doing. Something, I don't know, Big. Responsible. Adult. And I can't think what it could be. I may be a responsible adult to the rest of the world, but I don't think of myself that way. I blame that feeling of needing to do something. It is that same feeling that you get when you're in school and you suddenly realize that it is the end of the semester and there's a term paper due that you had completely forgotten about. That sense of urgency overlaid with a feeling of impending doom, accented by guilt, anxiety, panic, and shame.

But I don't have a term paper due. And I've gone through and checked and all my bills are paid. I can't find anything I've forgotten to do, and this feeling has been there, lurking in the back of my head, for years. So I've begun to wonder, is that what time feels like? The random moment of pressure in the back of the mind, the hint of urgency, is that Time reminding me of its presence, and its inevitable conclusion?

Such are the thoughts running through my head on this quiet Thursday morning at the Rest Area. The occasional traveler who passes by and responds to my greetings probably thinks I'm playing games or chatting. God, I love my job.