Fifteen Minutes

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I think Rapunzel would understand this phenomenon. 

Ever since work (and school) started, I have learned something about fifteen minutes.

Time is relative. But it no longer depends on whether or not I'm enjoying it.

You've got to mop the floor and brush your teeth and floss and journal and maybe write or get your room clean and be in bed before 11 pm.

Fifteen minutes is NOTHING. You've barely started, and you're thinking you've gotten enough done to have been working for five minutes. Its been fifteen. 

You're gonna sit down and journal for fifteen minutes, thinking, "I can write a ton in that much time! I'll have time left to grab a snack, and maybe do some cardio exercises!"

Yeah. Right.

You've written the header; date, time, location, and than doodled a little in the margin:

BAM!

Fifteen minutes up. Time to get going with the day. Sorry!

Time is an illusive rascal. When you're working your tail off, time flies while you're not paying attention. A lull for even a minute, and you're staring the the clock with bated breath.

COME ON BABY. COME ON. SECONDS, COULD YOU PASS ALREADY!? OH LOOK! THERE'S ONE!

Maybe this is especially a problem at small town grocery stores where all the costumers hide in the aisles and go "One...two...three....NOW!" and all surge towards the checkout at the exact same time.

That is to say, when you have nothing to do, like Rapunzel, time stands still and no matter what you do to pass it, it just won't budge.

But alas, when you need to do something very important, time roars passed you while you're already speeding, sticks it's head out the window, and bellows: "SO LONG, SUCKER!"

What a creep.

I miss when time passed slowly and sweetly. When it's passing slowly now, its kind of like it's pulling your teeth without Novocaine. 

They say the older you get, the faster it goes.

I'm not that old yet.

You can't make time stop by staring at the clock. Believe me, I've tried.

Fifteen minutes is all you've got sometimes.

Make the most of it....before it's gone.