It Slips Through Our Fingers

esdrftghkjkTime. What a weird concept, right? There’s twenty four hours in a day, three hundred and sixty five days in a year, and yet we’re constantly strapped for time. People rush everywhere these days. You see someone running down the highstreet in a dapper suit and you think nothing of it – they’re clearly late. The anxiety of fitting everything in a short amount of time is unexplainable. It’s a constant threat, looming over you as you realise you’re slowly running out of time and still, you don’t really do anything.

I always found that time was my friend, up until very recently. Suddenly I have a lot to do and not a lot of time to do it in. Can I really de-clutter, bin, pack and store all my life-long belongings before the 16th June, both getting ready to move to Cyprus for three months and preparing to leave my university home forever. We have to pack and clean and do paperwork and earn money and see each other for the last time. It’s a lot to do in one month, especially when you have to work as much as possible to earn enough money to live comfortably abroad, and even then you’ll probably have to get a job.

Everything is time orientated, dictated to us by transport and rotas. It’s mind-boggling how much we rely on time. We even judge people by how they manage time. We roll our eyes at people who are always late and appreciate those who are always on time.

Time restricts everything and it runs our lives. I get anxious when I’m even a minute late to anything, it can be a meeting or a shift or just hanging out with friends. I cannot deal with being late, especially when it comes to transport, I have to be there a good half hour before anything – bus, taxi or train – and you don’t want to know what I’m like with flying!

At the moment it feels as though a massive cloud of black smoke is hanging over my head, taunting me, whispering in my ear everything that I have to do – don’t forget to register to vote by proxy, don’t forget to clean the spare room for when you’re best friend comes to visit, don’t forget to take those clothes back, don’t forget to grasp as many shifts as you can, don’t forget to weigh your luggage, don’t forget to pack for Amsterdam and pay your friends back and pay rent and clean the house and say goodbye and cry and scream. The list goes on and on and for now there is no end in sight.

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