I really have them. I do a post, then figure I’ll come back in a few days for another one. But the day turns into weeks, months and years. I’m under a year since the last post, so I’m doing good in that department. But time slips away from me, so quickly.
So what’s happened in the year? Nothing. Everything. The timeless bubble of COVID-19 has gradually slipped away as we’ve decided the pandemic is over. It isn’t, of course, but we’ve collectively decided it is. Or at least, most of us. Masks are creeping back, slowly, but COVID is still there waiting for us. It is all a blur, regardless, and time slips away. The clock’s ticking is loud, isn’t it?
As I write this, the days still continue to grow shorter, and the bluster of winter is here. Technically, winter itself isn’t, but it let’s count it as winter anyway. Despite that, though, the promise that in just a few short weeks the days will reverse course and grow longer makes it seem like we are turning a corner into next year. We are. It’s just hard to see sometimes.
And maybe, just maybe, it won’t take me a year to do another post. Time slips away.