All Those Moments Passing Us By...

So, where were you on August 3rd of two years ago? What were you doing? Were you the same person you are now? How much did you have in your pockets that day? Were you happy? Was there someone special in your life that day? What were the thoughts you were thinking, the plans you were making?

Not that this date holds any significance, just so happened that I chose to write this post today, so, no, this date is not special in any way. To me, that is. But it could have some sort of specialness to some of us. Which is a problematic sentence, if we really break it down to pieces. It holds up the frequency with which we take things, and hours, and days, and people, and places for granted. Which is, after all, not difficult to do, considering the number of seconds and minutes that pass, too many, really, for us to count and too fast for us to pin down and just hold in our hands and turn over for perusal. But then, again, what of the regrets we express at letting a particular day go away without us having lived it to the fullest, and what of the sadness in the line "all those moments passing us by..."?

I read, somewhere, that waiting is a sin--a sin because the amount of time spent during the waiting is really time wasted. Makes a lot of sense to me. Think about this: if we added up all those minutes, or hours, we spent waiting for something and not doing anything as we waited, I'm almost sure we'd be able to come up with a pretty significant amount of time wherein we could have done so much more with the time we had in our hands.

But then, again, we can argue: isn't the waiting itself an act that is just as significant as the next one?

So, do you remember now where you were on August 3rd of two years ago?

I have drawn a blank. Have you?