Tim is always saying that we have plenty of time. As in, “do the crap job now and work on the degree, because you have plenty of time to pursue that job you really want later.” It’s a good philosophy, but I’ve been thinking about it lately. What if we don’t have plenty of time? Is this really how I want to be spending a year? Two years? Three?
Tonight was an answer.
There was an accident right outside my hotel at 2:30 this morning involving a drunk guy. Police are still investigating, but what they told us was that he was traveling down Michigan Avenue at high speeds and hit a planter in the median. The front end of the car was ripped off and the rest of the vehicle spun several times, skidding about fifty or so feet farther down the road. The guy, dead by this point, was thrown from the car and lay in the middle of the intersection–thankfully covered by a sheet by the time I witnessed the scene. The car was barely recognizable as such.
But it got me thinking–that guy, whoever he was, probably thought he had plenty of time. Truth is, we don’t have lots of time. I don’t know what I’m going to do, but I don’t want to look back and think, “What was I waiting around for?”