Anticipation

I'm sitting here at school at the end of another long day.  Tomorrow is Friday.  I'm a particular fan of Fridays.  I go out for my weekly Bob Evan's lunch, I get paid (half the time), and I know that I've got two days of freedom awaiting me on the other side.  And as if that weren't enough, Oakland County is under a Winter Weather Advisory tonight until noon tomorrow.  There could be a snow day tomorrow, giving me a full three-day weekend.  On top of the fact that mid-winter break starts next Friday.  There's a lot to be looking forward to!

Isn't anticipation a crazy thing?  I remember when I bought my ticket to Turkey in September.  I had a full three months to wait.  Everyday was a little bit closer to pay dirt, the time that I would finally be able to walk two continents.  But the odd part was that the time didn't seem to go slowly.  In fact, being involved in a day to day routine meant that I was busy often and barely had any time to think about the impending gloriousness.  The better part of the busyness was that I was actually doing something that I liked.  Going to school everyday and making money and contributing to society is a wonderful thing, thereby making (almost) everyday a treat.

Do you remember when you were a little kid?  Time used to crawl.  The night before big important or exciting things was always beyond agonizing.  The night before Christmas was usually spent twisting and turning under the covers, wishing and hoping for the dawn to come so that I could open presents and eat delicious treats.  I recall the night before big vacations when I would be restless and constantly thinking about the fun that was going to come.  When you're a kid, it seems like everyone is telling you what to do.  You have little say in stuff and things don't come as enjoyable.  Time goes slower.  Or maybe time goes slower because you haven't lived as much of it yet.  It's like the law of marginal utility.  The more of something that you have, the less value that each part has.  The more time that I live, the less important every individual minute is on my life.  The less I have lived, the more important.  It's an interesting thought, to be sure.

And then there's the unfortunate reality that our expectations are unmet.  That's what I fear may happen tomorrow.  I'm sitting here thinking about the incredible snow day opportunity, when I may be just blowing smoke in the breeze.  But I can still hope, right?!