Time is a Fickle Friend

Jennifer Khawam University College London, England


September 14, 2015

This is it. My final week of being home has finally come. There are only a handful of days left before my feet are no longer on the same ground they’ve been on for most of the past 20 years of my life. Although they’re a bit worried about tripping on this new ground, I think they’re as prepared as they can be at this point. Boots on, laces tied, muscles ready for the lunge. I’m ready.

Final preparations are being made: making sure I’m bringing the right plug adapters, deciding whether or not I should bring both my black and my brown boots, choosing which snacks to take just in case I miss the tastes and comforts of home, and so on. All of these seem somewhat trivial, given they probably won’t be the things on my mind as my plane prepares for takeoff. I’ll be thinking about so much more.

I’ll be thinking about how quickly this summer went, and how I am finally at this point; finally on the crumbling edge of a new, terrifying, and exciting journey, ready to jump off. Time is a fickle friend; always going by quickly in the best of times, always going by slowly in the worst of times. It’ll never be something you can control, and it’ll never be something you can be prepared for. I’m happy that the time is finally here, though. I’ve been waiting around for too long, wondering what’s going to happen when I finally get to London. Soon I won’t be wondering any more. Soon I’ll finally be experiencing.

As the days narrow in on my departure, and my suitcase is finally getting put to work, I sit here and wonder what time will be like during my journey. I know this trip will go by quickly, just like every other exciting adventure I’ve set out on, but I don’t think those other adventures will have as much of an impact on me as this one will. As I write this, I am reminded of a quote I read somewhere online. It says, “As you walk and eat and travel, be where you are. Otherwise you will miss most of your life.” I think I should listen to these wise words. I should not be so worried about time, and just live in the moment. Cliché, yes, but true. I suppose only time will tell whether or not everything will go by quickly or slowly. The only thing I can truly be sure of is the next time a post goes up on this blog, I’ll be settled in on the other side of the pond, in the midst of a place where I probably won’t even be concerned about time except when it comes to two simple things: waking up and falling sleep. My time between those two things, on the other hand, will always be up in the air, waiting for me to catch it whether it falls slowly or quickly.