One of my friends on Facebook posted this picture the other day and brought to my mind something that I have been thinking about for months now: how incredibly fast time disappears and how little I seem to be able to do with a day before it's time for bed!
It is now just after 4pm on a Sunday afternoon. The threat of Monday morning is looming - back to the reality of work: getting up early, trying to squeeze in exercise and housework and cooking until once again it's Friday evening and the unwinding can begin.
I never wanted to grow up as a child, and as inevitably I have, I truly understand why. I loved school. I loved seeing my friends, I loved most of my classes and I loved the little comfortable bubble that I happily floated in for fourteen years and then the slightly less comfortable, but still a bubble nonetheless, that I floated in during my three years of Uni. I have been working full-time for almost nine months now and I literally cannot believe how it seems to make time go so much faster when your days are spoken for from Monday to Friday, 8:30-5. Now before this post becomes a seemingly long, moaning rant, I want to state right now that it is not my intention to sound that way. I work with a great group of people, enjoy most aspects of what I do and even though it terrifies me most of the time, I truly know that my job is making me a stronger, more capable person - it's just the fact that I never truly understood what "growing up" really meant until I entered the elevator doors that lead to the office I work in.
I've been a busy person my whole life. I've studied, played the piano, played sport, worked at McDonald's casually since I was 14 and have always tried to spend time with my family and friends as well. For some reason lately, it feels like I have no time to breathe, let alone relax and enjoy what time I do have. I think it is largely because there was only a few days gap from finishing my Uni lifestyle, which don't get me wrong, was hard work, but still very different from the full-time work lifestyle I have now entered, and it has been a pretty big shock to my system. I might just be weaker than most other people, but I really have found it an incredibly difficult transition, and time just seems to slip through my fingers.
I have always loved to read. I used to never be able to go to sleep until I had read a few chapters of a book, but now, as soon as my head hits the pillow, I am usually dead to the world. I used to write in a diary, I used to write poetry and music but now, I am lucky to write a blog-post once a week. I used to see my friends for coffee and dinner and drinks and go out to town, but now, I'm lucky to see them for a quick lunch through the week and on the occasional weekend if it is not filled with other plans. Now I realise that it is totally up to me how I spend my time, and I can fill any time that I'm not working in whatever way I please, and making excuses is not going to get my anywhere. But seriously - where does the time go???
I still can't believe that I'm 22 years old. I can't believe that I'm getting married in just under seven months and I can't believe that I have business cards and a desk in an office. Sometimes I just want to curl up in my bed and stay there for a month straight, doing absolutely nothing but catching up on sleep, reading, writing and then venturing out to visit a friend or family member here and there. I want to fill my days with walks on the beach outside my house, going out for long breakfasts, browsing book stores, baking and writing a novel. I guess that's what retirement must be for?
I just feel like I've slipped into a routine where every second of my day is planned, seven days a week, and I really, really hate that feeling. I realise I may be being slightly dramatic (it's part of my personality..) but as I am getting older and "growing up", it feels like I have taken a lot of things that have happened throughout my life for granted. With that in mind, it seems like I have subconsciously tried to make sure that it never happens again, so I examine every area of my life and become frustrated if it is too packed full of things that are "obilgatory" rather than for enjoyment. Especially on the weekends; those two precious days where I can attempt to maintain some small portion of relaxation and do the things that I love - if those days don't become crammed with plans as they mostly do.
Maybe one day I will learn how to manage my time more effectively throughout a seven day week, and one day I won't wake up on a Monday, then blink and it's Friday. I don't want my life to be a whirlwind - I want to savour every moment and not be terrified to go to work and face another crammed week that slips by me faster than seems possible. But until I figure out just where the time is going and how I can make the most of it - the clock will just keep on ticking.