Birthday

So tomorrow I’ll be 28. I’ve been out of school and in the workforce for TEN YEARS.

When I was young, I was told to expect time to go faster as I aged. I couldn’t believe it was possible. A month was a very long time. A year, nearly forever. A decade? Unfathomable. And here my folks were telling me that a year would be nothing when I was “their age.” Well it has happened. I still feel like I just got out of high school. Where have these ten years gone? I sure don’t know what happened to them. Maybe I dreamed them? Hell, I can’t even remember how old I am without doing the math in my head. Birthdays used to be so important, and now I don’t even think about them.

When I was very young, I measured my age in half-years. That half year was so important. It meant I wasn’t just six, or eight. I was better. Those who were just eight were little kids. I was eight-and-a-half! Now I can’t remember my age. I don’t count it at all. My internal measurement of time has become unreliable. If I lived to be two hundred, would years feel like weeks? Does this time distortion continue to grow as I age? If so, does that mean that more of my perceived life is over than my age leads me to believe?

I feel like I’ve not accomplished anywhere near what I’d intended in what is, given the averages, three sevenths of my life. But do I have even less time now than it appears to accomplish these things? If so, then I suppose I’d better get my ass in gear, right now.