Time flies

Remember when you were a kid, and time seemed to drag? The minutes between lunch and afternoon recess seemed to tick by slowly, and it felt like summer vacation would never get here. When it finally did, I couldn't wait for my birthday, but it seemed that month or so was an eternity... time filled with Bible school and slip-n-slides by day and chasing fireflies at night.

Now I'm reeling from the breakneck pace of the past four months, in disbelief that it's nearly time to blow out 36 candles on my birthday cake. I've been driving for 20 years, but it seems like yesterday that I took my first drivers' test, right after Mom and Dad bought me my dream car, a '88 Pontiac Grand Am with a cassette player. I drove it to basketball practice listening to "Must Have Been Love" by Roxette and checking out my hair in the rearview mirror, which I'd sprayed with hair spray and blown dry to stick out as far as possible.

Time, it seems, doesn't just fly when you're having fun. It flies when you're busy working and buying groceries at Wal-Mart. When you're paying electric bills and doing laundry.

I'm not quite sure which is worse: time passing too slowly when you're a child or too quickly when you age. There's either too much or not enough. And you wake up one day and realize you didn't appreciate those lazy nights of bike rides and lightening bugs nearly enough.