Time, Always Wrong

Time is an oddity.  It is not necessarily a thing, nor does it have any corporeal form, but it exists and is measurable.  Despite being measurable, all seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, years and even decades have vastly different feels, which explains the word moment, which is understood by most people, yet not fully quantifiable. 

When I think back upon the last two decades, I'm surprised at how slow I think two decades ago went, but how fast the last decade burned through the sky.  In fact, I would say, aside from the last few months and a few months in 2012, I cannot imagine a time where I said to myself, time feels slower, almost as if each day was covered in molasses.  And even 2012, time moved fast, just not as frantic as 2011, which I'm fairly certain consisted of six minutes and 800 tasks, all of which required significantly longer than six minutes.  But when you feel time blowing by you at that rate, any sudden change will feel slow and drawn out. 

Thinking back, I think I prefer when life moves too fast rather than too slow.  When life is amped up, you are forced to make choices or try harder, but when things slow down, you slow with it and find ways to make 10 minute tasks take 30 minutes or six hours or wait on the list, so tomorrow feels like it has meaning.  As time slows, I start to think wistfully of days gone by where I used to make choices between sleeping and eating as my days were otherwise consumed.  Now, in all honesty, those days were horrible.  There should never be a point in your life where a good day at work means the local adult video store is open when you drive passed on your way, as this means you are well aware the only places open as you drive home are gas stations and convenience stores.

In fact, I still remember the night that I discovered that Pathmark was no longer a twenty-four grocery store.  Working seven days a week and leaving after 11 or Midnight most days, this greatly limited my grocery shopping options.  I could usually find an hour some early weekend morning or late weekend night, but you don't always remember everything as your mind begins to atrophy from the long hours and the lost desire to eat.  Best diet ever, but otherwise not much to offer.  Regardless, needing to supplement the meagre amount of food I was keeping at home, due to never being there, I stopped at the store.  There was plenty of parking in front, but that didn't strike me as odd. 

But when I got to the door, I was deeply saddened the store was closed.  It told me that I would not be acquiring groceries this fine evening and that I once again was out far too late.  Life was whirring past me and for a brief second, I cared about something.  Something trivial, but I cared.  And I was anguished by this.  But I cared, and that mattered for like 20 seconds, before I dragged my tired carcass back to the car to drive home empty-handed.

I suspect there is someone out there with the power to always view time correctly, who never feels that their life is moving too fast or too slow and I think if I met them, I might be envious of that person.  Mostly, I would envy that their life made sense to them on a regular basis, though I suspect most people feel the same way, even if they don't want to admit it.