25 more minutes.

10 more minutes.

30 more seconds.

As I sit in my statistics class, it becomes oh-so-apparent that I am wishing my time away. In high school, it was a different experience. In high school, I knew in the back of my mind that this would be one of the easiest parts of my life and that I should savor the last of my innocence. When we graduated, we told the greatest piece of advice an upperclassman could give an underclassmen, “Don’t wish it away.” That advice goes a long way. In general, we shouldn’t wish our time away or speed through life. But as I sit here, in my droning, mind-numbing statistics lecture that only 10% of the class has actually shown up to, I can’t help but wonder what wishing will hurt. It won’t change things, but for some reason it makes me feel the tiniest bit better. Or at least it gives me a sense of control. I may not be able to detect the lurking variable, but I can calculate exactly how minutes I have left and how many pins I can pin within those minutes.

Honestly, there isn’t much else to say about this… I don’t think I’ll every regret praying for my statistics class to be over. I’ll only feel relief that it is. Maybe not everything is worth savoring. Sometimes you have to grin and bare it.

Wishing you well,



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