If ever proof were needed that Time is not constant you only have to take a holiday.
Two weeks the wife and I have had off from work.
Now if Time were passing as it usually does when I am not on holiday then by rights we'd only be up to Tuesday of the first week. But no. Here we are at the Saturday of the last weekend. How the hell did that happen?
I guess the old maxim is true - the one about having fun and all that. Though I'd be hard pressed to tell you just exactly what it is we did do to fill the last two weeks. A shortage of coin meant that a proper holiday was out so we did lots of home days and lots of away days. Little villages in the Cotswolds, visiting friends in Gloucestershire, meals out, pootles around the park, or even just lazing in our own garden, etc. We've both filled the time and luxuriated in it.
And as a consequence Time has speeded up and whizzed by like it can't wait to get away from us.
Next week sees the end of the holiday. Next week sees the return of the alternative.
Note to self: edit self expression and emotional content here.
But one thing this holiday has taught me is that, no matter what speed setting Time seems to be running on, a happy and fulfilling life is inevitably based around spending time with the people who matter to you and not the people who don't; listening to opinions and advice from those whose opinion matters and not listening to the same from those whose opinions should be binned and, most most important of all, daring to stop dreaming and daring to start planning.
Because no matter how fast Time is running, it's running in my favour now.