It's actually only been a month or maybe two since I wrote last. Do I dare pick it up again? Would I be doing it only to leave one last post, only to avoid spoiling the poor thing with the eternal association of food trucks?
Maybe.
Summer has quickly come and gone. How often do I say that? Today I read a nice quote that said something like "Aging is Father Time finally catching up with Mother Nature." Part of me thought that was cute, and another part of me wanted to murder Father Time. I turned 25 a few weeks ago. Wore a daring mini-skirt and found a coarse, gray hair to go with it. When did a quarter century go by?
It's been a weird summer, I have enjoyed it thoroughly, and it has flown by. All the same, I have been waiting. Why did I put myself in the waiting position? I had my reasons, but was it the only option? Here's another quote for you. Madonna said it in one of her songs. It's been ringing in my ears all week: "Time goes by so slowly for those who wait."
And that's the thing about Father Time. There is a way to try and slow him down, watching the clock tick and tock, relishing the fact that your head contains just one gray hair, and waiting with wide shining eyes for a great or greater moment. Your life surely won't fly by that way. But who would choose such torture??
Sometimes there is little choice though. This week might just crawl..
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