Well, as somewhat of a fan of the duodecimal, today is rather a semantically important one for me.
It was less than a week ago that I visited my old high school (the one
in New Zealand, if anyone was unsure). Seeing that which was the same as
when that place was a pole of my commute, and the great deal which is
not. Seeing the additions to the lists on the hall walls of teachers,
trophies, prefects and awards which had
come and gone in the intervening time. Meeting again after such an
extended absence my former form and maths teacher (appreciation of whom
was highly correlated with that of socks). Well it's fair to say that I
was feeling rather old. Like days past were days preferable. In a way
similar to how i've often felt in the past half dozen years, I felt time
has passed too quickly and I wasn't yet ready for the next milestone.
All that, up to just less than a week ago.
But no longer.
Whether driven by deceptive grudging acceptance, by time-measurement
based perspective shift, or by the numerous greatly successful events of
the remainder of my travel, that feeling is gone. Now, I *am* ready. My
life has caught up with time. I have overtaken my adversary, and now
*I* am in the lead.
I'm grateful for the second dozen years of my life, but I'm also finished with them. Mission accomplished. BRING ON THE THIRD!
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