Here’s what I’ve come to realise – Time is liquid. When you really want it to stick around, it’ll just dribble with increasing, uncontrollable speed through your fingers. Then, when you have buckets of the stuff, just oodles of Time, it’ll sit mockingly in said bucket and taunt you. This is a common realisation, I’m sure, but sometimes I cannot believe how liquid and essentially malleable Time is. When you have lots of things to do, Time whizzes by. When you have nothing to do but sit, maybe watch some paint dry, and wait until later when you actually do have something to do, then Time will pass like an unwilling child dragging their feet as they’re forced to go to Tesco with Mum.
Time. We constantly battle it. Constantly wish to beat it and cheat it at its own game. But it’s damn plucky old Time.