I’ve always thought I had plenty of time.
No matter what happened to me, I had plenty of time to change things. I had plenty of time to try again. Plenty of time to fix my mistakes.
When I became managing editor of a small daily newspaper while I was still just 21 years old, I thought I was way ahead of schedule. I had plenty of time and I was going to live up to my potential. I was going to do great things.
When I started my own newspaper company in my late 20s, I was pleased with myself. But then my company failed by the time I was 30. But I still had plenty of time.
When I became a political consultant a few years later, I thought I was finally on track. Surely this was where I would make my mark. I was going to be someone important.
Politics led to a high income, but nothing of importance. I wasted 20 years. I ended up divorced. I had nothing to show for my life yet. But I still had plenty of time.

Lonely older man finds new life through meeting and loving dogs
What’s the best word for those of us who just want to be left alone?
What would your obit say about you — if you could write it yourself?
Why do I suffer deep alienation when I fear I’m misunderstood?
Liberal NPR, PBS? Why should tax money pay to influence culture?
Group conflict isn’t as simple as tales of good guys vs. bad guys
Unexpected phone call can turn world from happy to miserable