Because even this article is going to be over before you know it. Hold onto your mortality hat and let us explain. So what gives? Does time actually speed up as you get older? Is youth genuinely wasted on the young? Was your grandma actually right about everything, including how delicious coffee candy is? Once a seemingly-endless period of time devoted to aimlessly riding your bike through the neighborhood, wandering around the town pool complex, or lazily antagonizing your younger siblings, summers transform, at some point in early adulthood, into a frenzied dash to shove as many margaritas and beach trips as possible into a season that now feels like it lasts about 72 hours, tops. Somewhere between youth and adulthood, the nature of summers - and of time itself - seems to change. An American tradition, as wholesome as - wait, it's the first day of school already? How is that possible? Didn't classes just end, like, two weeks ago? And how is it the end of the summer? Didn't summer just start last month? And how is that Brad and Angie got together nearly a decade ago? Where is all the time going?
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