Time is relative. And I mean relative in the most back-woods, inbred, 'I am my own grandpa' way possible. Time does what it wants, and though we seem to think that Time runs in a very linear fashion, and at the same speed at all times (unless of course, we are approaching the speed of light, thank you, Mr. Einstein.), this is just so much Bull-Byproduct.
We have been manipulating Time since we were children, and now that we are adults we have either forgotten it or failed to recognize it for what it is.Who among us has not, as kids, stared at the wall clock, waiting for that bell that signals the end of the school day and wondering just how that last three minutes can take so long?
I thought so.
We do this as adults as well. We do it all the time. We just need to learn to control it!
Ever had a 10 minute wait all alone in the doctor's office, stripped down and johnnied up, sitting there with your butt cheeks sticking to that butcher's paper they use? That 10 minutes takes an hour, doesn't it?
At least!
I ran into the 'time-stretch' just today, as I was sitting there staring at the screen wondering what in Hell I was going to write about here. I fiddled around. I blew my nose. I got a drink, then accidentally took a nap. I woke from the nap needing to get rid of that water I had rented, so I went to the bathroom. I washed my hands and blew my nose again. I checked my email, my FaceBook, and my twitter, and I emailed, posted and tweeted respectively. I looked back at the blank, white field that I was supposed to be filling with words and noticed that it was still blank and white. I checked the clock in the corner of the screen.
90 seconds had gone by.
Why, oh why does this not happen when I'm trying to get Handsome to a soccer game? Then I always run into the reverse effect, the 'time-crunch'. It's a 20 minute trip from my parent's house to the soccer field, so I give myself a half-hour. I should have 10 extra minutes when I get there, right?
Nope.
I pull out of the driveway with 30 minutes to get there, but somehow by the time I reach the 1st major turn-off, which is only 2 blocks away, 20 minutes have gone by! I now have 10 minutes to make the 20 minute trip, which pretty much guarantees a white-knuckle, hold-on-to-both-butt-cheeks ride where I'm almost never using all four tires at the same time!
Why can I not control this? Why is it always working to my disadvantage? I see it in my writing. If I'm stuck, and can't think, and basically wind up with a mild cast of writer's-block, time stretches out so my misery just seems to go on and on. And then, when the block breaks down, or the story starts to flow, and the words just seem to pour out of me like someone's turned on some weird faucet somewhere, kind of like right now, time seems to-
Waitaminute! Holy $#!+ look at the time! Oh my God where did my lunch go? Oh... crap, I'm way out of time, I have to g
Talk to you later!
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