Time vice

The office is very quiet, the loudest noise is the humming of the air-conditioner, some female laughter down the stark corridor briefly interrupts the panicked silence. I feel like I'm in a slowly closing vice, a compaction machine that turns automobiles into ten cent coins. Now until June 15 - 35,527 minutes. Now 35,526 as I lose a minute listening to the clock ticking above my head. The gap closes just a little more, the wall of 'the now' slowly pushing me forwards towards June 15. How do you dig your heels in against time? It just...keeps...on...going. At exactly the same speed, nothing can slow it or hasten it. Except our minds of course, the obvious caveat to my self-pity inspired suggestion. Time flys when you're having fun. I didn't know that writing a thesis would be so rip-roaringly fun, although I admit the fun is eluding me somehow.

But of course, I exaggerate. Deadlines are a bugger and sitting at a computer all day is an even bigger bugger, but I chose to climb this hill so I'll just keep walking, one foot after the other.

Did I mention rain in my last post? That was a mere spring shower compared the drenching we've recently recieved. I swam home from work yesterday only to find Heather on the roof catching Barra that strayed from Milton road. She'd lost most of my tackle on snags in our annoying neighbours garden. The sun is back out today and the water has receded, fish flipping frantically about in little puddles.

It seems the best way to keep in touch people is by getting a virus that emails everyone in your address book - try it yourself.

What's the time, ahhh time to keep working on the dreaded document.