My Relationship with My Wristwatch

So much has changed. I’ve graduated from college. I’ve moved to Washington, D.C. I’m purchasing a new car. I’m applying for a Virginia dirver’s license. I have insurance. I have an apartment. I get things in regular mail, now.

It’s weird how I’ve left so much behind me in Rochester. Moving to VIrginia and starting a new job (where I’m shirking my lax Firday duties to write this post) right after graduation has forced me to transition VERY quickly from being a 22 year old in college to being a 22 year old young professional, and the contrast is stark. I can’t only complain about waking up at 7 am every day to go to an office, though, because there are definitely a lot of cool things about this new life (happy hour and payday, to name a few).

In a rare attempt to be poetic, I think the transition I’m going through is strapped to my left wrist. I never wore a watch in college; everybody just used their phone. But now I feel naked without it. I need to know exactly how many hours are left in my day to finish a task (or until I can go home). In my effort to grow up, I have literally strapped the construct of time to my body. And the sense of comfort it provides me to wear a watch is ironic because I’ll never be able to escape the passing of time. We can only ignore it. I probably didn’t wear a watch in college because it allowed me to ignore time’s passing, and that was easier than confronting the fact that I’m going to die.

Well, now I can’t ignore time because I need to use it to pay the bills, and that sucks. My wristwatch helps me stay on top of that. It helps me get through the day. It’s weird to be comforted by the passing of time because someday i’ll be 80 with no time left, but at 22 – time is on my side. I hate my wristwatch because it reminds me that I need to work. It reminds me that I need to get up in the morning. But I love my wristwatch because it reminds me that I (hopefully) have 60 years left on Earth to make the most of, and having time on my wrist will help me accomplish what I want to do before I die.

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One Response to My Relationship with My Wristwatch

  1. Ben says:

    Morbidly inspiring or inspiringly morbid, either way well done.

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