Time is always passing - even though I don't often notice it.
April is often a slow month in a school year: long and full, no "Spring breaks" or 3 day weekends to interrupt the march of workdays. The divine vision of "the last day of school" and summer vacation is still a distant mirage. The weather is maddeningly unpredictable: sunny and blue skies one day (or even one hour!), gray, wet, and blustery the next day (or hour!).
So, sometimes April just seems to crawl along. But in the last week or so, it's begun to fly. My birthday is fast approaching (it's this Friday), and I've caught myself thinking about the fact that I'll be well over a half century old. I've also been thinking about the fact that retirement for me from teaching is not so far, far away anymore.
Holy cow! That just doesn't seem real. I don't think any of us ever really realize when we've "officially gotten old". You could tell me that I've gotten "wiser", or "more experienced", or "a little grayer", but older? Nah! Aren't I the same old Jon that I've always been? Isn't that the same old Jon looking back at me when I look into the mirror?