Working at a hotel taught me to live between the cracks of time, to cherish moments others let slip by.

Holidays like Christmas meant standing behind a desk, smiling at strangers, while others rushed to embrace their families.

People would look at me with soft eyes, their words tinged with pity: “I hope you’re enjoying Christmas, even though you’re working.”

And I’d reply, with a quiet knowing smile, “You don’t need the day of to spend time with your family, ya know?”

In this life, where doors never close and clocks never stop, I’ve learned to find joy in the in-between. The takeout dinners, the spontaneous trips to buy furniture, the quiet evenings spent watching an old movie—these are the fleeting moments that build up.

Most rush through them, blinded by the glare of grand occasions, But I’ve learned to slow the tide, to stretch these fleeting seconds into their own infinities.

Once you master patience, you can hold time in your hands. And in those hands, you realize the ordinary is where the extraordinary always hides.