More work. Nothing out of the ordinary, just an orthodox routine that I follow when the day calls for it (this tends to be every day). I was probably still on the fact that my morning had evaporated into the time spectrum and I couldn't believe how fast the day was going. After thinking about this and when I'm gonna buy my college supplies, I pushed it aside.
After work I made the trip to my grandmother's house, where my family got together to celebrate my dad's 49th birthday. He's 49. Half of 98. Over double my age. If our lives are like tape measures, and you roll out the yellow steel to the inch mark that indicates your date, it's a sight to see when you realize how small we as humans truly are. Try this. Take out a tape measure. If you are my age (22), roll it out to the 100 inch mark, and then subtract your age from 100. What you will have left (78 inches), is your life. That is how much time you have left. Play with the 22 inches that you sucked back into the tool a bit, and see, that even though 22 inches measures out to be a lot of yellow metal, just like that, its gone. It gets sucked instantly back into the steel vortex where it's held. That's how our lives are. Just like that, we are here. I look at the 78 inches left on my reel, and realize two things.
1.) This is all under the impression that I live till I'm 100, so if I die younger, my distance would even be shorter.
2.) Live your life. No time for the dilly dally of a dilatory life.
Good times, good cake, good food, and good drinks. I love these people. In the realm of reality, all of our tape measures have been built in the master construction of our family. Our life. No one can ever tear that constructed art down. Ever.
- Grandpa, Grandma, Dad, Me, Shelby, Mom, Ethan -
