Tick Tick Tick

Yesterday was such a weird day that I could not even grace it with a blog post. Track team will be gone all day Friday and Saturday, so that was an obvious source of stress - missing class, and study time, and having to pack. Betsy and I made the cut to present our graduation speech to the senior class officers, which meant we actually had to turn our outline into a draft. I got my paper back and I have another one due next week and the thesis momentum is building and I'm on worship team this week. And yesterday, it was all catching up with me. All of the things I had to do, and the expectations I had to meet. And as I was ticking them off, I remembered where I was a year ago.

Dakar.

Where people take 5 minutes each to greet the dozen people in the room, on the street.
Where "I'm coming" means they'll probably be there within an hour. Maybe.
Where a 10-minute break stretches into half an hour.

I remember going to gymnastics camp; my roommate was Lauren. We thought being 5 minutes early was late. That was me.

And then I went to Dakar, where being 5 minutes early was more like being an hour early.

When I first came home, I was slower. I would leave for something at the same time it started. I wasn't concerned about the minutes ticking by as much as I was making certain I would be present. All there, even if I was late.

And now, a year later, I've sunk back into the familiar. I am so early all the time. I finished the research for a paper before our professor asked us for our topics. I was this close to stress vomiting because I handed my zero draft in at 9:13am and it was due at noon.

I am throwing my time away. Oh that I could slow down and remember Djiby and Pape Samba and Ismaila. In less than three months, this will all be over, and what will I be left with?

That time is not nearly as important as the people you spend it with.