I remember being school-aged, and feeling like time really dragged by. A week seemed to crawl ,and a month was a life-sentence (especially when grounded!). I also recall my grandmother telling me emphatically that ‘time flies’; and on this – my thirtieth birthday – I certainly understand more of the depth of her message!
It’s not just leaving my 20’s that causes me to ask: So what does age really mean/matter? Is there any significance in the quantity of our birthdays other than to mark the passing of time?