I have been in a rush since kindergarten.

Many have complained about the too-fast pace of modern life. I think introverts and those who fall into Elaine Aaron's "highly sensitive person" classification are especially hard-hit by this. For example, I thank God that I work at a college now and never have to hear another buzzer signaling a 5-minute passing period. These types of sentiments started early in my life. 

In kindergarten, I had to be temporarily moved from the "high" reading group to the "middle" group because I didn't complete my work as quickly as the other kids. The teacher would ring a little bell, and I would cry, distressed that I had not finished. Yeah, I was that kid. When I was in the middle group, I could better pace myself and I did not cry, and for this, I earned a prize. Eventually I moved back up to the high group. 

I think I've been in the high group ever since. Sometimes it seems like things have been just non-stop: do well in high school so you do well in college, finish college and get into grad school, then start competing for more jobs, more grad school, apply to present at conferences, go to institutes, do research. Teach five classes, meet people in the office, answer a million e-mails, and attend a million meetings. 

When I hear the backpack zippers as I'm making my last good point, when the copy machine jams five minutes before class, when I could get to the meeting in time if only I didn't have to hike up to Fountain Hall, that little kindergarten bell rings in my mind. I don't cry much anymore, but sometimes I do wonder, "What's the prize?"