expiration dates and existential crisis

As I was picking up a few groceries the other day, I’m pretty certain that  I terrified the young man restocking the organic waffles. Y’all, you won’t believe this, but the expiration date on the milk I had just put in my cart was — DECEMBER 8. Elsie, say what?!

That’s the same month as Christmas. Christmas! Now, several things may be racing through your mind at this moment:

1. Just how pasteurized is that milk?
2. Exactly what was the reaction to said date that terrorized the stock boy?
3. Shoot, we need milk!
4. December? As in, almost 2018?

I’m right there with all you #4 thinkers. And to all you thinking #1, it gave me pause, too.

I used to think that only “old people” (in quotes because “old” has become incredibly relative these days) had a grasp on how quickly time passes. But apparently gray hair is no longer a requirement for seeing the sands sifting at an alarming rate through the hourglass.

Just yesterday, a recent college grad who has just begun his first “real” job, confessed to me how the days fly by at an alarming rate. He admitted that he assumed it was a fluke when the first work week flew by without him getting everything done that he felt responsible for doing. Until the second week came along and BAM, it happened again…and again. I couldn’t decide if I should hug him in sympathy or give him a hearty congratulatory handshake. He wasn’t sure either.

Here’s what I do know, or at least what I’m learning—the earth is spinning faster these days and I’m determined to keep up. Not in a “get stuff done faster” sort of way, but a “don’t wait around” way. Because, I don’t know about you, but I’m not giving that milk a chance to spoil.

I would love to hear from you.

If this got you thinking, wondering, or something else, please comment below.

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