Ancient

Here's the deal. I really like to write. I mostly just like throwing up whatever happens to be in my brain onto paper. That is to say, don't expect anything great from me. My writing skills are still about what they were when I was 15. Granted, I had written two novels by that time, but no one ever said they were good (they weren't). I also have a larger vocabulary now, though I'm convinced my spelling has declined. Mostly, this is just me talking about my life, things I do, things I learn, and all that fun stuff.

I turned 20 last month, and I am fairly certain everything is downhill from here. I was babysitting a few days ago and the 3-year-old I watch hopped onto my lap, looked at me for a moment, and then observed, "Why do you look so bad?" I'd forgotten to put on makeup. I explained that I was very tired. She frowned and proceeded to tell me I looked old. She was right. I could have easily passed for ten years older that day. It was a weird experience. Even on little sleep, I used to look my age. Even without makeup, I used to not look like I'd weathered a battle. I also recently discovered my first grey hair.

Now, I'm not actually that upset that I look old some days.After almost a year and a half of being sick, I've finally got my body mostly under control, but I still have the dark circles under my eyes and weak muscles to testify to my illness. It's odd that 3 years ago, I didn't give a thought to my health and I existed almost entirely off of marshmallow cream and Kool-Aid. Over the past year, there were days I wasn't able to stand. There were days I legitimately believed I would die before I made it to 20. I went from being terrified of needles to lying on one of those weird doctor's office beds making suggestions on which arm the nurse draw blood from.

Anyways, I read this a few days ago and have been thinking about it ever since. I've been thinking about time and what it is and what it means, and what I'm doing with mine. Because more than most people my age, I have a pretty decent idea of how fragile that time is. I'm not really sure where I stand with time right now. There are things that I'm really glad I'm doing, and feel like I'm stewarding my time well. In a job interview a few weeks ago, I told my interviewer that I saw good time management as an integral part of following Christ. She looked confused, and I wasn't really sure how to explain it any better, so I probably didn't. Sometimes I get really awkward about things and just quit making sense. That wasn't an attribute of myself I wanted to display in that interview. Anyways, I think the point is that there's more to life than just existing. There's more to time than passing through it. There's more to growing old then memories and people that break your heart. If every second doesn't matter, then none do. And that's me, being presumptuous.