We’ve all had weeks like this, or rather, like that, as I’m referring to the last one. A week that kicked off at the pace of a dying snail, with every minute being 130 seconds long. Only to speed up and finish with a mad dash that would make Usain Bolt envious.
Even though nothing in life is more predictable than the fact that time waits for no-one, the irony lies in the fact that specific situations influence our interpretation of how fast it moves.
When you’re doing something terrible, like sitting in a queue, it always feels like time has simply forgotten about your existence. Compared to when you’re doing something fun, like being on a holiday, then time speeds past you like a freight train, with no consideration as to how much you actually needed said holiday.
Only Time can be that spiteful. Or is it just me?
Anyhow, here’s Enya celebrating my love-hate relationship with time.