The first time, the last time

I am obsessed with finality and unique events. I find myself taking note of the first time I do anything special or last time I do something banal. This happens especially when I am on the verge of moving. Last night, for example, we went shopping for our last few meals in The Mill, and we shopped at our Target - the Target that has been our primary shopping source since we moved here - for what will probably be the last time.

I don't know why I do this so compulsively. I just know that I'll continue to catalog events: the last shower, the last morning, the last time down the stairs, the last time entering the door code, the last time driving out to The Mill, the last time turning left out of The Mill. It's a real problem!

On out trip to DC last month I noticed that the traffic we hit coming out of DC and into Northern Virginia was the first real rush-hour traffic that we have driven through since leaving Orlando - that's a pretty impressive statistic, actually. When visiting historic structures, I love to think that I am walking on the same stones that people walked two hundred years ago. This is partly why I love boulders and rocks - their age amazes me. At the North Carolina Museum of Natural Sciences there is a hunk of a meteorite that is as old as the universe. It is an interactive exhibit and you are allowed to touch it - it is my favorite part of the museum. I choose to ignore the decades of germs and bacteria that are no doubt lingering there from the slimy, snotty fingers of thousands of children and focus on the rock itself. It makes me feel connected with the universe in a way that nothing else really does.

I think the same must be true for my other time/event-related obsessions. I am aware of my surroundings when there is a limited and known amount of interaction left. Despite the frustration and wasted time, I will miss the route I currently take to drive home. I won't miss it enough to take a memorial trip, but I will miss it enough to take note of the last time I drive it.