I never really noticed it until I got into my 40s, but time really does fly, which is the exact opposite of how it was back in elementary and high school.

I can still recall sitting in the classroom, hoping for summer to arrive so I wouldn’t have to wake up early. Then I’d daydream about spending the day hanging out with friends, going out on bike rides or playing tennis.

Looking back now, it’s so easy to only remember the “good” times and conveniently forget the unpleasant memories, but I think that holds true for everyone else.

I mean, why dwell on the bad, right? Not that I’ve had that many. In the grand scheme of things, I count myself one of the lucky ones.

When I do start feeling sorry for myself, which happens sometimes when things don’t go my way, I remind myself that I only have me to blame. No one else. And that usually stops the self-pity dead in its tracks.

Millions of people out there have it so much worse. All I have to do is to go outside for a reality check.

But sometimes I do wonder how my life would have turned out had I married or had children. Then I immediately discard the thought. At this stage, I refuse to be consumed by “what ifs.”

It has only been in the past few years that I’ve come to appreciate the lyrics of “My Way,” which was written by Paul Anka and set to the music of the French song “Comme d’habitude,” which, if you don’t speak French, basically means “as usual.”

I have to admit, talking about myself once in a while provides a respite from everything else that is going around. There’s no avoiding the problems that Cebu, the country and the rest of the world face since I work in the media. I get to read about them firsthand.

Last week, someone at work who is young enough to be my son if I had one asked when the cover photo on my Facebook account, which shows me inside my college dorm room, was taken.

I told him it must have been during my sophomore year, which would make it 1989 or thereabouts.

Then he said, “Maayo gani, Sir, kay naa nay colored atong panahona,” which roughly translates to “It’s a good thing colored photos were already around back then.”

I laughed, of course, for a good 20 minutes, while I looked for an edged instrument. Fortunately, I couldn’t find one.