Every time I open my browser there is a countdown to my death, according to some actuarial table. It’s a big hit at work. Anyway, broadly speaking I am expected about 21000 days to live [controlling for almost nothing].
I turned 24 earlier this month. It is an intimidatingly small number. It also maps cleanly to a clock metaphor, being born at midnight-
- Just as I am in actual mornings, the morning of my Life Clock finds me genuinely helpless and useless to everyone until maybe 6am. Being very generous to myself.
- I then spend the daylight hours in state-sponsored education, where I learn to sit very still and presumably something else. 12 hours of that. 6pm.
- I then spend three and a half hours at Carnegie Mellon, where I learn things, make some videogames, do some research, dip my toes into startupland and then more or less pull back. It’s approaching 10pm and I’m exhausted already.
- I have been an “adult” in the workforce in New York for almost two hours. I’m a consultant, a job that I didn’t know about when the sun was up. A significant amount of my social interaction occurs over platforms that were invented this afternoon (older than I would’ve expected, really), and much of my correspondence is with people who I have never or rarely met in-person. I travel fairly often. My girlfriend and I got a cat. On the whole, I’m quite happy.
- I guess I’m a few seconds into tomorrow, but that doesn’t really mark the start of a new phase in my life (unless you count my recent promotion, but that seems too small a change at this scale). The idea of looking back on *two* days, 24 years into the future, creeps me out.