180 Days…
It’s hard to figure out how long 180 days is, how it feels. It seems like time goes so fast, but if you try and get a fix on it and think back, last August seems like forever ago. But when you’re in charge of your destiny, living and doing where and what you want, it slips by. A day becomes a week becomes a season.
How does time alter when you’re not?
I have no idea. And so, I’m collecting things to pass 180 days. Things for my hands and my head to be occupy themselves with. I want to learn to crochet, and I’m on the hunt for…useful things to make. I have seen a lot of terrifying animalmorphic baby hats. Probably not that. Something small so I can collect tiny satisfactions, but not…”Oh, great. Now what do I do with this yarn flower?”
On further reflection, crochet might not be the sport to achieve that.
180 days is also twice through this. So that’s something. 24 weeks seems like less time than six months, somehow.
And there’s always the “come home with a book written” option. This is totally doable. 250 words a day, and I’ll come home with 45,000 words.
Plus, Italian. I figure if I want to live here for a long time, it’s probably time I know more than “restaurants” and “pleasantries.” Verbs. Verbs would be good.
Oh. And about that 25 book challenge. I think I’m about to win the whole thing.
