So it goes.

This was supposed to be a reward for finishing all of my homework, but here I am typing this while my to-do list remains on the desk beside me, almost completely unchecked. So it goes.

It's weird how fast things go, like first I was throwing confetti and then I blinked and now I'm surrounded by fake gold coins and shamrocks that are supposed to give you luck. So it goes.

You know what else is weird? How fast things change. Like that one day when I went into my bishop and then thirty days later I got this big white envelope in the mail, and now all of a sudden anything that has to do with Portugal is super intriguing to me. So it goes.

I know this post isn't about people dying (or is it?), and I honestly wasn't that much of a fan of Mr. Vonnegut---you can ridicule me all you like for that statement. I mean, I'm sure he's brilliant and all, but I just don't have a high tolerance level for things that aren't super clean. But still, out of all the things he wrote, that phrase has stuck with me. So it goes.

And so it goes. Life just goes. You come in all red and tears and new, and you go out leaving behind black and tears and old, and sometimes all you can say about it is, "so it goes."

Things change and seasons change and you kind of have no control over. I mean, I enjoy sunshine in February but that doesn't mean that I'm rooting for snow in May again. So it goes.

I learned the weirdest word the other day; you could almost call it serendipitous.

I was sitting in Relief Society looking at this 18-year-old girl standing in front of the classroom teaching a room full of other 18-year-old girls and I had this strange thought: "I wonder what is going on in her head right now." And for a just a split second I pretended I was Aubrey, wearing a mustard yellow skirt and blue earrings, probably with shaking knees and pages full of notes and a heart that was praying so hard that we would all understand what she was trying to tell us. And for a second, I stopped being me and started being her.

Sometimes I feel like I'm such an unique individual with problems and decisions and thoughts and emotions that are singular to me. But then things happen and I realize that I'm surrounded by hundreds, if not thousands, of people who are feeling and experiencing the same things I do---not to mention that they probably have a lot more struggles to deal with on the side. That's when I start to feel like just one more grain of sand on the beach. 

So it goes.