Time is such a relative measure in this life, especially when there is high stress or when life is busy. Sometimes it has profound meaning. Sometimes it is the most meaningless concept I can imagine. Babbling seems to speed it up. Waiting seems to slow it down. Paying attention sometimes seems to slow it down as well and not paying attention seems to do the opposite, but logic suggests time itself does not move at different speeds in our normal daily lives. Maybe it has something to do with whether we take it personally or not. Let's get personal for a moment. It has been five months since I stopped working (and it feels like an eternity), six months since Happiness left our lives (and it feels like only yesterday) and four months since Jackson broke the news that she was moving in with Brandi (and it feels like much less time has passed), four months since I paused writing in the daily blog (e)thereal that I filled with almost seven thousand entries over the previous almost eight years, just thirty-one days since I moved into this unfinished room (and it seems like I've been here forever), almost two weeks since I've seen Jackson (and it seems like much longer), and forty-two days since I began writing in the current two-step dance (daily blog set) In Case It Matters and Dirt, Drama, and Details and both have almost fifty entries in what seems like a blink of an eye.
Why do we keep track of time, anyway? lol sigh :)
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