As I click on the red, green, blue, and yellow flag in the very bottom left of my computer screen, and click on the Word processing program, I tie back my hair. As I always do in busy times, very much so like Violet in the Series of Unfortunate Events. I begin this piece in an unusual way, not that unusual, but all the same.


I look at the rectangle of white before me, reflecting that it is soon to be filled with meaningless words; the thoughts of a teenage girl. Although, I continue on as I do with any other piece, I tap the tab key on my keyboard and think back to my seventh grade Keyboarding Class teacher, Mr. Smoot.



“Now, I’m going to let you guys in on a hint.” He paused, giving a sort of sinister grin,

“The tab key is going to become your friend, because without this friend, you could be losing ten points on each and every short answer question you fill out on the new computerized state testing program.”



I remember thinking how silly that was at the time, that a simple space, no larger than an inch, could determine your total score and tell a person how intelligent you are.


In an instant I’m back to the present, I click on the font drop down menu, select my favorite font, Arial Narrow, and change the font size to 12. How very standard of me. And with that I begin typing.


How funny time is, for my mind to have gone back three years, only to snap back within milliseconds. The time it takes to describe a moment that passes through your mind is completely different from the time that it takes your brain to recognize it and move on. Actually explaining the memory makes it sound different to me somehow, for in my mind I just remember it without all of the little details, it’s just, there.


Three years, some would think that’s not such a long time in comparison to, say a life sentence one would serve in a prison. If you’ve ever watched The Shawshank Redemption, you’ll understand where I’m coming from. Forty years can certainly change someone; can make them an institutionalized man. But three years can change a person just as well. Granted, I’m not that different, but I’ve grown in many ways, and I’ve seen things that not everyone is blessed enough, or unfortunate enough to see.


Time is many a thing. When I look at my driving permit’s expiration date, 2021, it seems to me like an ion away. In that instance, time is scary. In the same millisecond that I can recollect my past, I look into my future, and a million questions run through my head.


In eight years, will I be married? Probably not, but I worry that I won’t be in a serious enough relationship, if one at all, to even begin thinking about marriage. In eight years I’ll be twenty four, an age that I would preferably be settling down with someone I love, and preparing our lives to start a family. I can’t be sure that that’s what will be happening at that time but that’s what I think about when I look into the future.


But when I look at my AP summer work, I curse time for being too short. Three months doesn’t seem like a long enough time to read two books, write a three to five page essay on them, and thoroughly understand a list of literary terms. But I can guarantee you that in the end, I’ll have done it. The tricky part is how I’ll fit in time to actually enjoy my summer, and better yet, find a job! Yes, time is indeed a funny thing.


Be it eight years or a mere three months, with time comes uncertainty. With the past come memories and lessons learned. The present is an ever changing thing, lived second by second; it’s decisions affect the future, and can be determined by past experiences. Yet the present means everything to us, so enjoy it, before it becomes the past.