Tempo

Sometimes time moves at a steady pace. And sometimes you can't stop that steady progression of life's enduring tempo.

This causes a thing called aging.

Age, according to a book of diction, is defined similarly to (or exactly as) the following:
1. To grow old
2. To mature, as wine, cheese, or wood

Life's tempo is turning me into cheese, essentially.
I am an immature cheese for the next half-handful of days.

Gift Wrapping

First day as a gift wrapper. It was nice to just be dumped into the gift corner without any run-down of anything. But I guess you're just putting paper over a box and it's not that complex. But still. I was nervous. First day of work.

I get nervous over little things. Like gift wrapping.

So my first present I wrapped... The guy wants the pink paper. Why? Why that paper? It was atrocious. No, really. Think of the most horrendous shade of pink, and it was probably the shade of that paper. I blame the pink for the horrible job I did on the wrapping.

And my getting nervous over little things. Like gift wrapping.

As time goes on, I realize more and more how tedious and redundant small-talk is. I had plenty of that with the co-workers. "I'm in school. Just doing my generals. I'm loving it. Yeeup..." (Awkwardly looks around store, rocking back and forth on heels)

It was funny when people didn't know which wrapping paper to use.

"Do you have a preference of paper?"

"Hmm... No... What do you think I should use?"

Well, considering the fact I've never met you in my life, let alone the person this gift is for, I am not sure I could decide which paper would be the best for the situation at hand.
Then I would respond with, "The pink one is pretty..."

"It's for a 14 year-old boy."

"The holly one is nice."

"He's allergic to evergreen plants."

Eventually my wrapping skills became so excellent that people just left their wrapped presents for me. Along with fifty-dollar tips. And I'm okay with that.

Flat Coke in the Morning

Nothing like chugging down three-fourths of a caffeine free Diet Coke one day, and then drinking the flat fourth the next.

Diet Coke has zero calories.
This has zero significance.

Why I decided to write a post about this experience of soda-drinking is beyond me.

I guess after waking up at five in the morning with heartburn caused by drinking something y'just never usually drink, Coke becomes significant. Thanks, Coke.

The twenty-two seconds you spent on reading this will never come back for you. Thanks for reading.

Finally

Sometimes, there are these things called finals. They are tests. That usually occur at the end of a semester. They also often occur in the final stage of tolerance for homework, studying, education, stress-management, etcetera.

And...I think that's all. There are some unproductive things waiting for me somewhere far away from all these papers.

Lemonade, No Ice

It's December. A dent into it, already. I couple minutes ago, I thought, 'Whoa, Time. Whoaaa. Slow down, there.' It's true. I thought it with my own brain.

That thought from my brain made me think about stopping time. Because Time keeps on trudgin' and never gets a break. Never gets a 'Thank you, Time... Why don't you sit here and I'll get you some lemonade.' It's winter, anyway. Time probably doesn't want lemonade. But even in the summer, Time doesn't ever get that offer.

So I thought about what would happen if somebody figured out how to stop Time. And I realized that if that discovery was ever to be made, what if they couldn't figure out how to start Time back up again? 

Glassed

In a Timely Manner

I have a bad sense of time. Maybe not 'bad', just... a lack of a sense of time.
Time is relative.
It was invented for the convenience of man.
Sure, the sun was always a way for people to keep track of time. But who's to tell me where I need to be by the time the sun reaches 73 degrees in the sky?
Being on-time is not 'in'.
Being 6 minutes late, consistently, is 'in'.
Setting deadlines for when I need to learn something is not 'in'. I'll learn on my own schedule, thanks.
Setting deadlines for when I need to hand a paper or two or five is definitely not 'in'. Try to be more fashionable, you guys.
Setting a time for when I need to be in class to hand in a paper or two or five is not 'in'. Therefore, I will sluff that class. And maybe the class before it. So I can keep up on learning on other people's schedules.
And when I finish those one or two or five papers, I'll write on my blog instead of going to the rest of my class. Not because I'm irresponsible. But because times is relative.