A month: My grandma, who prays for my safety every night.
Two weeks: My parents, the people responsible for my birth.
A week: My closest childhood friend, who I’m just now telling I won’t be able to make it for drinks.
24 hours: A work acquaintance who could care less about my existence but whose validation I seek nonetheless.
12 hours: My crush, after I've drafted and peer-reviewed at least ten different replies.
6 hours: A knock-off Mr. Wonderful, Kevin from Shark Tank, pressuring me into taking this deal.
3 hours: The real Mr. Wonderful, Kevin from Shark Tank, trying to pressure me into a deal.
An hour: LeBron James, asking me if I want to play pick-up later.
Half an hour: God herself, revealing the truths of the universe.
15 minutes: My soulmate. The person God made solely for me. The one who completes all my sentences, likes all the same music, and probably doesn’t exist.
Immediately: My weed dealer.