On Saturday night, on our way home from Worlds of Fun not two miles from our house, Steve and I saw the wreckage of a terrible accident that had just happened. "Drunk driver," I had muttered. That's a real problem around here. I don't like to drive anywhere past 10 pm for that very reason.
Yesterday, I read the article: a drunk driver hit a newlywed couple. The woman, 26, died. That could have been me. Had we been at that intersection three minutes earlier, had I not insisted we stop at Dairy Queen for that Blizzard since my throat hurt from screaming, we would have been in the wrong place at the wrong time.
I've been thinking about time lately: how there's never enough of it. I hear people say, "I haven't found the time for ___" (working out, reading books, taking a vacation). News flash: you won't ever find time. There aren't these minutes and hours that you don't know about lurking around somewhere between your regular scheduled programming. The lurking minutes and hours are in the activities you already have.
You make time for what is a priority for you by shuffling around some of the activities that are currently sucking your time away from you. You stop watching a TV show (preferably Biggest Loser or something else that is 2 hours long). You quit sleeping in. You use your lunch break productively. I'm saying all this to myself, really. My one goal in life has always been to write a book. And thinking of death without notice reminds me that I haven't done it yet.
I've been putting off writing this book because I can always find other things to spend my time on: puttering around the house, watching premium cable, surfing the internet. Without a definitive deadline, I always think I'll find time later. But I haven't so far. So here's to making time for it now: here's to turning ambitions from dreams into goals.