Time is such a slippery commodity.  It’s not measurable in advance with any certainty but the increments we leave behind are solid, accounted for down to the microsecond on the clock of life.  Each moment changing, evolving, forming us as we continue on our paths.

But there is no universal scale with which to weigh and judge those moments.  No way to measure the worth of one or the amount of time we feel has gone by.  One moment, one horrible terrible moment can seem to spread out for years in memory.  Where as a full day in the shining warmth of the sun can seem to pass in a flash.

Time frustrates me like few other things, and it seems now that I’m at odds with it more than ever.

Maybe that’s why I stopped wearing a watch.