Musings on Time (And Other Random Thoughts)

Mere moments ago, I discovered the true magnitude of my stupidity, as well as my complete lack of ability to learn from my mistakes. Let me explain: I had a solid paragraph of (what is this, a pitiful journal? Call it what you will…) well, this stuff, written, and I was just about to divulge the details of my major (and actually very anticlimactic) epiphany from last night, when I shifted in my chair and managed to nudge the power cord of my computer just enough to disconnect the whole thing. Honest mistake, you may think, but considering the fact that this is at least the tenth time I’ve done this in the span of a month, I come out of this story feeling all the more retarded. I digress…

            So now I find myself right where I began twenty minutes ago, before my little debacle with the cord…the “epiphany”…as my now lost composition had stated, last night, my pre-sleep solo pillow talk/nightly contemplation of the meaning of life yielded a thought, and as I sit here, wallowing in my ever-present boredom and unshakeable feeling of uselessness, I find myself revisiting that same thought, which is as follows: time will always pass at the same speed. It doesn’t matter if I wish it away or pray that it will simply stop to catch its breath; its pace will never change. That being said, I don’t know about everyone else, but I’d rather endure the tough, boring, emotional, or scary times with a smile, and chances are I’ll realize that time finds a way to rush through those moments, just as it does when I’m laughing with friends, sleeping, or admiring the beauty of this world. Basically, I’m resolved to be grateful for the fact that I have any time at all. It’s all about your attitude (or so I’ve been told…).

            I’m finally amost nineteen! I’m grateful to still be in those years where making it to your next birthday is exciting, because you feel like you’ve been your current age for far too long. Once I hit something in the neighborhood of twenty-three, I’m sure I’ll be feeling quite the opposite. I think I just want to reach an age where I can be taken seriously in all aspects of life…I thought that would happen when I turned eighteen, but au contraire, Lauren…au contraire. My arrival at BYU was quite the reality check. But I’ll get there soon enough! They say it all starts with taking myself seriously, but I’m not sure if I’ll ever be able to get to that point. For goodness sake, I'm too awkward for that. Want an example? I run into the turnstile that leads to the elevator bank at work literally once a week. Today was that day for me. We have these security badges that we have to scan, and they unlock the turnstile so that we can walk through and get to the elevators. Simple enough, right? Wrong. Once a week, I manage to scan my card and confidently march forward into the turnstile, only to be violently barred access to the elevators. It doesn’t help that I am way beyond deficient in the social skills necessary to recover from such situations. Instead, the whole thing sounds something like this:

*beeeeep*

step, step

*BONK*

“Oh my GOSH, you’ve GOT to be kidding me!! This ALWAYS happens to me! Once a week, I tell you! Without fail!”

*beeeeep*

And then there are a good five minutes of me mentally kicking myself for being so darn awkward all the time. I've always gotta make a scene...Just say nothing, Lauren…for the love of all that is holy, say NOTHING! I’ve learned the hard way that talking to yourself in public isn’t exactly smiled upon…