Abstract: When a man sits with a pretty girl for an hour, it seems like a minute. But let him sit on a hot stove for a minute and it's longer than any hour. That's relativity.
"On the Effects of External Sensory Input on Time Dilation." A. Einstein, Institute for Advanced Study, Princeton, N.J.
Ah. I timed myself yesterday and realised the relativistic effect of procrastination on my sense of time. I had been procrastinating yesterday, in part due to some rather technically tedious aspect of my video work. So I surfed, and surfed... and when I thought 20 minutes was up, one whole hour had passed by.
Then I decided to bite the bullet and knuckle down to doing the work itself. It really felt like what I feared it was going to be: t-e-d-i-o-u-s. My fingers ached. My eyes strained. My wrist strained. My nose bled. (Ok, I made up the last part.) I crimped and I cramped. I gnipped and I gnashed. I whipped and I lashed. I hemmed and I hawed. I yipped and I yapped. I zipped and I zapped. I gimped and I gasped. I licked and I lacked. I flipped and I flapped. I peed and I pawed. Oh, the humanity! Anyway, the fabric of space and time got warped and distended, the heavens melted, the sun ran out of its nuclear fuel, the entire universe disappeared into a last whirlpool of a cataclysmic singularity. And yes, the Lord was about to come back when He took a long look at me, and decided to come back later "when you're done waiting for Windows to boot up". And when I had done my task, my tedious task... I looked at the clock to see how many epoches had passed.
The revelation: 5 minutes to finish a task that I'd been wasting 1 hour trying to avoid.
Yep, the old man was right. Time's relative.
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