I can almost hear the vaccum-like whoosh of time rushing through my body and life.
I'm not complaining and it doesn't depress me anymore. I think I've finally made it to a point where I just accept it for what it is and am grateful that I have time to rush by me.
Sure work still stresses me out, but I know that it's a temporary stress. One that melts away when I am surrounded by the comforts of home.
These moments that fly by so fast, these moments that I used to spend more time worrying about missing than actually enjoying, are being stamped in my memory and I can take them with me where ever I go.