Yesterday #3

Yesterday #3
Decay

After coming back from winter break, I remembered that I did not wash my sheets or towels before leaving. I put them in the washer (they almost didn't fit) and when they were done, I put them in the dryer. After paying for the load, I looked at the timer and saw that my clothes had 60 minutes left to dry. For whatever reason, I just stood there and watched my wet sheets rubbing against the plastic, leaving trails of slightly soapy water. Then, before I knew it, the timer said I only had 58 left. Two minutes had gone by. That is 1/30 of an hour, which is 1/24 of a day, which is 1/365 of a year (thus, 2 minutes is approximately 1/262800 of a year).

This may not seem like a lot, but that's only two minutes! Three minutes is 1/175200 of a year, and four minutes is 1/131400. That may seem small, but it's only four minutes! Think about how many four minutes there are! That's so many 1/131400 of my lives wasted!

So I was standing there, having this existential crisis, and I call Mandi to explain to her that every second that we are doing something, it is a second we are closer to the moment we die. Now, this isn't necessarily a bad thing. I mean, death is whatever. It just means that I have one second less to give people hugs or eat candy or make pasta. And that's a bit sad I guess. But I will have given many hugs and eaten lots of candy and made lots of pasta before I will have died, so maybe it's not that sad.

Anyway, LEXIE YOU CAN STOP FREAKING OUT.

PS: There were a bunch of dead flies on the ground and water dripping from my washing machine. Signs of my decaying youth?

Incidentally, my things were not dry when I took them out of the drier and had to pay for a whole other hour of drying, and even then, the towels were still wet.