I recently got home from a family vacation in Hawaii. (Yes, my life is wonderful and sometimes I fly to a Hawaiian island for 5 days. Also sometimes I end up in urgent care on said island to get a cyst cut of my back. Just some perspective for the internet – no one’s life is perfect. Even on vacation in Hawaii.)
I finished finals Thursday night. I had to be at the airport Friday morning. So I was already a little dazed, a little what-day-is-it, a little haven’t-eaten-a-real-meal-in-a-while. Our first morning there, I woke up and did what I do every morning: sat on Instagram for too long. I finally made my way to the kitchen. Got some coffee. Stood on our gorgeous balcony. Read my book. We decided to make breakfast. We decided what to make for breakfast. We made breakfast. We ate said breakfast. We debated what we wanted to do; finally decided on a hike. Changed into hiking clothes. Dang, I thought myself, today must be halfway over already. We just wasted half the day sitting around. I checked the clock to find out it was only 9:30.
I was told of this phenomenon of island time. It’s a slower pace of life, a different mindset to live by. Things might not start on time. Or they might. Who knows. Time feels like a foreign concept – sometimes we’d be at dinner and it felt like 3 hours only to find out it was a 30 minute meal. Other times our 15 minute car ride felt like an hour and a half. What. Is. Happening. Read More