There is no such thing as ordinary time.

All time is extraordinary.

I want to throw away the idea of ordinary time.

I've let too much time slip by.

It never bothered me, if it was ordinary.

Another day. Same old stuff. Same people.

Same clock.

And then something happens that seems out of place because it is not ordinary, it is not usual, and I wonder how I can possibly handle making a decision on such a thing because it looms too large. Change happens slowly and then all at once, but it always happens and that is why time is never ordinary.

I think I'm not prepared.

That I didn't get my ordinary life in order like I wanted.

That I can't possibly deal with something out of the ordinary.

I hate the ordinary as much as I want to stay bound in it.

There is no ordinary time.

As soon as I see how extraordinary every moment is, how every decision is actually a decision, the extraordinary events don't catch me off guard.

"Hello," I might say. "I know you. Yesterday you were me, sitting on the front step, deciding to paint my toenails blue instead of pink with the wind lazily pushing across the grass, and today you are asking me to possibly change the direction of my life."

Both decisions were decisions.

I was given the time to make them.

I enjoyed and struggled with the time.

All time is extraordinary, and if it isn't, then I am merely wasting it.