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.

‘Tolerant’ left seethes with hate if you don’t accept ‘gender theory’
Financial crisis seems serious when it hits your own neighbors
Life as misunderstood stranger feels like walking through a fog
For power-hungry politicos, nothing is more important than winning
Miss. church turns back clock by refusing to marry black couple
When times turn too dark in my life, I’m grateful for furry antidepressant
I don’t regret my choices, but I do lament choices he refused to make
If I perform well enough for you, will you give me love, approval?
Life is full of choices, but some require us to ‘come before winter’