Everything has a shelf-life, so enjoy it before its pulled.

My house became an impromptu cabaret as I quickly stripped off my clothes like my life depended on it. In a way my life did depend on it. I just got off work and was severely overheated and light-headed. I'm sure not eating or drinking anything all day then rushing through my closing duties were causing my exhaustion. It was worth it just to get out of the store as fast as possible. The work is mundane and a waste of my time. As much as I would love to, I can't quit the job now because I need the money. That's a pretty miserable feeling if you've ever experienced it.

I hate being at the mercy of currency.

"Water!" I said, and my instincts lead me to the nearest source. I turned on the faucet and lowered my head into the sink. It was crass drinking water straight from the bathroom faucet but I didn't care. After re-hydrating, I turned off the water and leaned over the sink. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath and tried to remember, "When was the the last time I felt this crappy after working? When was the last time things felt this desperate? Like sink or swim?"

The bathroom became a stargate and when I opened my eyes, I was standing in front of a different bathroom mirror. I didn't recognize the scene until I looked down and noticed a giant hole in the wall's tile. I had teleported back to the bathroom in my apartment, circa summer '08. I stood there trying to remember that summer. My concentration was broken when I heard Death Cab for Cutie playing from outside the bathroom. There was only one person who insisted upon listening to Death Cab for Cutie the entire summer '08.

If I could open my arms
And span the length of the isle of Manhattan
I'd bring it to where you are
Making a lake of the East River and Hudson

My heart felt connected to the sound, and I pushed open the french doors that separated us. Daniel was sitting on the floor. Somehow he was always able to maneuver smoking and handwriting at the same time. He looked up and saw me standing in the archway, then immediately smiled at me and waved. I smiled back at him. He never missed an optimistic beat and asked me with the utmost sincerity, "Hey love, did you know Ben Gibbard wrote Plans for you?"

"I still haven't listened to that album all the way through yet." I replied. That statement was true back then and it still holds true today.

I walked over to the futon and saw Amanda sitting there, reading the newspaper. "Where are--", but before I could finish asking,  J.Will, Mike, and Jeff answered my question, as they came walking into the apartment through the front door. We all stood together again in that living room moment. J.Will walked toward me and I felt a sense of relief because I knew what he was about to say, "At least you don't have to go back to the crappy job tomorrow." I didn't want to break our transcendental bonds, so I refrained from explaining that I had to go back to work this time. We exchanged hugs, and with my eyes closed, I felt our energies combine through the embrace we shared.

The sudden resurgence of energy banished my exhaustion. I woke up and looked around to find that I had returned to my bathroom in present day 2010. I washed my face and finished changing out of my work clothes. Then I sat down and finally downloaded the album Daniel asked me to listen to two years ago.

Few things in this world last forever. This includes you and me, money, crappy jobs, amazing jobs, bad days, and dog days during the summer of recession '08. When I start feeling overwhelmed, I forget that the amount of happiness and bliss that can exist in a moment can outweigh the total amount of happiness, and unhappiness, over the span of a year.

Everything has a shelf-life, so enjoy it before its pulled.

I wish we could open our eyes
To see in all directions at the same time
What a beautiful view
If you were never aware of what was around you