Einstein was right. Time is relative. The same span of time may seem to drag on for-ev-ar for one person while it zooms by for someone else. Last 10 minutes of the last school day of the year? Molassas. 10 minutes after you smack the snooze button? A blink.

It’s like two weeks’ notice.

Of course, I’m writing this in a completely empty office way past happy hour for the second night in a row. Like an homage to the first several months that I worked here at the Humboldt Sun trying to meet deadlines after vastly overestimating my capacity to do so within the usual 8-5 work day. How can nine hours defy all laws of temporal physics to simultaneously creep and fly?

So, currently, the last two days of my two weeks’ notice appear to stretch out in front of me; though by the time you read this, those two days will be over.

But the past 20 months? Where did they go?

Two words: board meetings.

If someone were to ask me what I did as a newspaper staff writer, I’d say I attended board meetings. Almost 100 of them, actually, since July 2017. I attended board meetings and wrote down the important parts. 

And I learned things. I learned more about Nevada water law than I will ever use in Texas. I learned how a school district operates with schools over 100 miles apart. I learned how much trouble a peculiar-looking bird can cause, and how difficult and expensive fixing historic school buildings can be. I now know what 50 pounds of pot looks like.

When not in a board meeting, I learned how a leach pad works, and what a Mormon cricket is, and what a Clamper does, and what a Picon Punch tastes like.

But anyway, board meetings. Nothing really demonstrates the progression of time like a board.

I’m not talking about the seemingly interminable hours spent in a rigid plastic seat. I’m talking about the way a seat on the board passes from one person to the next without much of a hitch. One person steps left and the next one steps in. Easy. I watched it happen for the school board three times just in the past year.

And now that’s what I’m doing. Stepping left. Letting someone else, someone probably more qualified, figure out what on earth that board member was mumbling and why it matters (for the love of all things holy, man, speak into the microphone!). I wish her, and all those who will inevitably come after her, the best of luck.