If Time Worked Like Rollover Data
If time worked like rollover data, I’d have so many minutes to cash in. I’d log all of those mornings waiting for the L train when I lived in NYC, and all of the times that the Green B line got stuck underground in Boston. I’d have a notebook-long document, complete with numerical evidence from my Metro and Charlie Card receipts. To add emphasis, I’d leave footnotes of all the songs playing in my earbuds during those train rides, and they’d reflect what life looked like at the moment.
If time worked like rollover data, I’d backtrack and remember all the hours I’ve killed at coffee shops. Overly anxious about being punctual, I’ve always been habitually early. In NYC, if I had an audition at 3pm, I’d get to midtown no later than 2pm. The Starbucks on the corner of 8th avenue and 43rd street was essentially my office. If I had an extra hour to spare, I’d obliterate those 60 minutes by stapling sets of my headshot and resume in an oversized chair while drinking my signature soy chai tea latte.
If time worked like rollover data, I’d keep a stopwatch in my car. I’d pay attention to the green numbers on my dashboard as they slowly climbed upwards as I sit in Boston’s gridlocked traffic. I’d make sure there was a notepad in my glove compartment on which I could describe every rush hour’s drive.
If time worked like rollover data, I wouldn’t worry about all the times I’ve pulled my iPhone out while waiting in line at the grocery store. I wouldn’t berate myself for not looking up more often, and I wouldn’t feel guilty for being too “plugged in”. I would rest in the comfort of knowing that I’d get those minutes back, bundled up nicely in some kind of bonus package. I’d be able to use those hours however I wanted, and I’d use it better the next time around.
If time worked like rollover data, we’d all get to live in the moment a second time. We’d learn all the lessons we previously failed, and we wouldn’t complain so much. We’d be more patient with lines at the bank, and slow traffic lights wouldn’t make us as irritated. We would focus more on our loved ones instead of material items. We’d let the little things go. We’d be happier.
We’d appreciate the things we missed the first time. We would live the way we always meant to. 
