READ ME ... yeah, right. Right?

I'm sick of everyone else having on-line diaries. I want one too.

What is this all about? Maybe you should read the READ ME READ ME.

january 23, 1996: time warp

what is it about time?

why do i feel like i never have enough time?

i am always busy, doing things, ... usually things i feel like i have to do. usually i enjoy these things i am doing.

for example, i am enjoying sitting here writing about time. but i am knowing, at the same time, that i really don't have the time to spare to sit here and write about time.

there are always so many more things i want to do than i have time to do before i am so exhausted that i have no choice but to sleep.

i hate that.

sheesh, i cannot imagine being bored!

and, this whole "age" thing.

i keep freaking out about 20-year-olds out here pulling 70-hour work weeks and 28-year-olds who are CEOs of companies worth millions of dollars. of kids from my freshman dorm appearing in tons of publications ... i think i'm so old!

but i just as well might be 20. i look 20. i feel 20. i have accomplished about as much in my so-called chosen profession as the typical 20-year old. people say i look 20 and act 20.

why do we attach value to the age of person? is a person's age always indicative of the quantity of experience a person has had?

i think, that when i was age 20, i might have slept with more people than most people have in a lifetime. did that make me a 30-year-old, at least, in terms of casual sex?

i dunno. but i do tend to think it is close to impossible to write or talk about things without having experienced them, at least a little. when i see people younger than me complaining about being unhappy, i want to scream:

you ain't seen nothing yet!

and i know that i haven't really seen nothin' yet either.

or maybe not.

perhaps time will tell.





or, if you must, back to Rebecca's Revenge

Copyright 1996 Rebecca Eisenberg