Are Sea Turtles Happier?

I was sitting here, ironing my work pants tonight, when it dawned on me that it is the 4th day of March. In 2013. Didn't I just wake up hungover yesterday after a night of drinking and celebrating the New Year? And then I felt the slightest bit of uneasiness that I couldn't just stand up, right then and there, stomp my foot, and make time come to a standstill. It wouldn't stop moving. It was moving as I was ironing. It was moving as I was feeling anxious. Heck, it's going to be so smug this weekend when it takes an hour away from me and makes us move our clocks forward. This obvious fact of truth made me wonder what I was doing there, mundanely ironing my pants preparing for an utterly predictable and most likely uneventful next day. Shouldn't I be creating much more unique memories? Shouldn't I be doing something major with every minute of my life? Shouldn't I be LIVING, BREATHING, INHALING, ABSORBING, RETAINING, every single second that ticked by before my very eyes?

I think I've been having something of a quarter life crisis lately. Maybe it's not a crisis, but a period of rediscovering myself. Discovering that I have the vitality in me to do and try things I didn't find interesting before. Is it driven by a sudden realization that there are a lot of things worth investing time and energy, and sometimes money, in around me? Is it my irrational fear that I can't pull back each second that passes by, and instead, must helplessly watch it go without a memorable moment to brand it?

I feel a mixture of optimism, anticipation, fear, and uneasiness about my future and what I will achieve. Sometimes--more than anything--I wish I could relish every moment in my life worth living for, present and future, as my 26-year-old-self. I have the physical strength. I have the emotional maturity. I have the cognizance. But I suppose the moments you remember most fondly in specific parts of your life are imprinted in your mind so, because you were meant to have it then. It was the right moment, in the right time, at the right part of your life. I'd like to believe that to be true.

A response I got recently about my life being UN-amazing 90% of the time, was that maybe the 10% was worth everything else. What a comforting and beautiful thought. If I am lucky enough to live that long, my 75-year-old self won't remember ironing her pants for work the next day on that March evening, but she'll remember the moments of her life that welled up her eyes and took her breath away.