31 July 2012

Eons and Ages

Time passes. So quickly does it drag i'ts lumbering mass by. And those few fragmented moments we each receive, we must judge how we arrange them.

I know that if I pursue grad school, this is job temporary. I know that I am sinking a great deal into a project that garners more complexity with each passing moment, and shouldering that is a challenge. I know that there is so much to this world.

My toes touch the bottom of the pool. But barely.

I want a drink. Instead I'll go to work. Both are mind-numbing, so what does it matter?