Time

The clock amazes me sometimes. Either it ticks too fast or it stands still. There is no happy medium, at least for me and the more I think about it. I'm stuck in a kind of dead end job as I wait to go forward with selling my scripts, and if that never happens I have to think of a plan "B". And consequently, waste more time, and this time it's not hours, it's years. Let's say I'm watching one of the handful of shows I enjoy, let's say, "Project Runway". I commit a major dieting no-no by preparing my dinner based around the show, and I tune out everything else I am doing. Before I know it, I look at the clock and there is 15 minutes left in the show. I'm amazed and then I reflect on the day past; at work, and I remember myself looking at the clock three times before 5 minutes elapsed. Is it the visual that speeds up time? Is it because I am happy sitting down to something I am looking forward to and secretly abhor work. Is my job so unfulfilled that it feels like I am carrying around 50 pound dumbbells while walking in a circle in a Turkish prison waiting for my sentence to end?
My mode of transportation is the ferry which runs on the half hour for most of the day. I hate to say, "I Swear", so believe me when I tell you that no matter what I am doing, when I arrive at the ferry terminal, it is inevitable that as I approach the escalator I hear the loud fog horn of the boat pulling out for it's journey. And subsequently, I now have to wait another 29 minutes for the next boat, which as you may guess, drags on longer than a stint in a doctor's waiting room.
So, when I am rushing for the boat the clock is ticking like I am in Final jeopardy, when I miss it by within a minute I feel like I did when I was young, at Latin Mass, waiting for the priest to pick up the chalice signifying to me that the mass was almost over.
It's taken me 34 minutes to write this post, at work this same amount of time would be comparable to about 43 seconds.