However, on this occasion, I feel like a very large, very inconvenient rock placed dead in the middle of a river. A shallow river- a channel? A rivulet? I should have gone camping more often when I was younger. I might know the name of the travelling body of water to which I am referring, and everything is better when it has a name. But I digress- I am a rock in a river.
It's second semester senior year, and my life is full. It's almost time to walk the walk (you know the one). When I was little, I dreamed about being bigger. When I was in middle school, I dreamed about high school and hoped that someday I would fill out my clothes. When I was in high school, I would dream about what college and friends and living away from home would be like. Now that college is almost over, I am left to dream about the next big thing. Unfortunately for people in my situation, that happens to be one of the biggest things there is- the deep and wide and vast universe of adulthood. Luckily, Developmental Psychology recently named my next life stage as that of the "emerging adult", so my many failures will probably be received with grace for a couple years at least.
At the same time, though, part of me feels like I must not be keeping up. Life must have always moved this fast- there's no reason that Time would slow down or speed up depending on my stage of life, and yet it feels like everything and everyone is running, swimming, being carried by the current, and I'm a huge rock in the middle of the river. I don't even have legs. I'm a rock.
Heavens to Betsy. I hope I get some legs soon.
