Staring Down the Minutes

I just looked out the window and no one seems to be walking in slow-mo. Cars are speeding along as normal, people are scurrying--life seems to be going on as usual.

So why does it feel like time is standing still?

It's because I have something to look forward to-- a mini break from work. The universe is pointing and laughing at me right now. It lulled me into a false sense of hope that time would go by at a decent clip today-- yesterday flew by and that was a monday. But no, that was all a part of the universe's sick plan. When I left work yesterday I was so excited for monday to be over! And to only have one more day in the work week! Great feeling.

I started early this morning so that I could leave early. I got here at 7.30am. I didn't mean to. Let me explain. In order to be able to leave for 3, I arranged to work an 8-3 day, with no breaks but a 1/2 hour for lunch (instead of the usual hour). Everyone is happy. I got up earlier than I normally do. And calculated that I would need about an hour for the commute and 15 minutes for my coffee run.

Well that is the timeline for when I get here for 8.30. But if you take the bus at 6.45, generally not that many people are on the road and a commute that would take an hour, now takes considerably less time. I stepped off the bus at 7.15. After I got my tea and arrived at work it was still only 7.30. Luckily Amy is an angel (we have worked out a lot of issues) and has agreed to let me leave at 2.30!

So that has worked out. But the universe wasn't going to let me off so easily. No no. I thought I had won--but the universe just stopped time. You can do that if you are the universe. I am powerless. No matter how hard I work, time doesn't go any faster. I can keep looking at the clock, or stop looking at the clock altogether (and that is impossible), it doesn't make a difference. I can try to keep my head down, work hard or I can f**k around and not actually get anything done--either way, time is standing still.

But when that clock finally does say 2.30--I am going to be out of here like a bat out of hell. For 5 glorious days I will not be in the office. I will not have to send generic emails. I will not have to answer inane questions from the Cubicle Buddy. I will not have to listen to other people's phone calls, or read snotty office emails. And perhaps best of all, I will not be staring at the clock.