I always assumed one purpose of school was to prepare us for life. Seems reasonable. Sure, we encounter many unknowns on our paths and school can’t possibly prepare us for everything. But you’d hope school could at least prepare us for what we’re guaranteed to face.
But alas, no. School never sufficiently prepared me for the Number One Fact of Life: time moves fast. Really fast. It’s faster than a speeding bullet. Faster than light. It’s faster than that burrito I ate last Friday.
Over three years ago I came up with the idea for this dumb book. That time passed by in splintered second. The last half year flew by even faster, as I put the pedal to the metal to finish writing. Finally, the last two months topped them all as I pounced on this project as if it were a big juicy cheeseburger. I was so anxious to bring it to a close, I just couldn’t stop. I worked on it 25/7.
And then—just like that—I did stop. The time came to hand the manuscript over to other humans for proofreading, critiquing and editing. My first frenzied thought was, “Okay, everybody. You have six hours to get me your edits, because I need to have this done Done DONE.” I didn’t want to cool down. I didn’t want to wait. I just wanted this whole thing behind me. And that meant everyone had to work at my frantic pace. An unreasonable expectation, to be sure, but that’s what I felt nonetheless. Unfortunately, I had no choice but to wait a while until the manuscripts were handed back in.
Here I am—still waiting. I’ve definitely had time to cool and that’s not a bad thing at all. It’s given me time to step away for a bit, regroup, and gain four more pounds. And gaining weight is good. I mean, without that, I’d be forced to write about Britney Spears. And nobody wants that to happen.
