Wednesday, October 5, 2011
To the average person, this is just a box of 100-count coffee filters.
To me, they represent the future.
"Where will I be when the filters run out," I wonder.
This is common neurosis of mine usually plays out when it involves something in the near, but not too near future. I don't wonder who I'll be the next time I have to buy cereal— that's too frequent of an occurrence. But when I get my oil changed and they slap on the reminder sticker in the upper corner of my dash, it makes me ponder.
Usually, I picture the "100-day into the future Erin" thinner, smarter and all around more together.
But it never works out that way. Typically, the future Erin isn't much different than the current one —give or take a few pounds.
This recent filter purchase stopped me in my tracks though. A quick calculation showed that the next time I was due to buy more filters, I'd be just a few days shy of my 39th birthday.
Which only leaves a handful of coffee-filter packages between my thirties and my forties.
I just about broke down in aisle four.
Yep. I'm approximately five coffee filter packages away from turning 40.