I got a watch for my birthday. Six months to the day, the
strap broke. It just sort of slid off my wrist like it was giving up. Exactly
six months though. Coincidence? Yeah, probably.
I got one of those annoying “memories” from Facebook where
they remind you of all the angsty pop-emo lyrics you used to post (don’t act
like you didn’t) and pictures you took with friends you no longer have. Except
this one was a status from four years ago when I was studying abroad in Morocco
about how I felt like I had screws drilled into my spine from the aching that
came along with the “flu” I had. “What a drama queen” I thought to myself. The
next day I fell ill with the exact same symptoms all of which were not limited
to achy joints. I’ll spare you the details.
I’m not sure what these things mean, but I’m sure they mean
something. Maybe it means I need to be less rough on my watches. Maybe it means
I need to pay more attention to my health. I’m not sure what the underlying
message is here, but I am thinking more and more about the fact that timing
matters.
