What would you say to me if I told you that you don't have to be at work by 8 am, but rather that you have to be at work tomorrow?
What if I told you that your alarm clock is going to be reconfigured to only display days, and not specific times?
Would you sleep better?
Or what if your clock card was to have days, not digits, on its’ face? Would your concept of time be altered? If your meetings schedules were week specific, how would you feel?
Would you abandon the man-made minute, if you could?
You probably would, and with little reluctance and regret.
The remaining seasons and their finite hours would still supply the exact same amount of time, but any approach to it would change.
Minute to minute hysteria would disappear.
Imagine the calendar with fewer pages, the digital watch that couldn't work, having no digits.
The extraordinary clock views that offered a time/reference point, and the time saved by not having to view them.
Placing a freshly kneaded loaf into the oven, and taking it out, whenever, or in summer due to the uncomfortable, elevated kitchen temperature. Or, the absence of queues and gridlock, where there would be no hurry to go nowhere.
The time would be the same but the speed and urgency would attenuate to nothing.
The microwave bell, synchronized to the moon phase, even.
Wouldn't that be a pleasant concept, whatever about a compromised “baked Alaska"?
The pre-Christmas sales rush, replaced by a more even-tempered and annual-wide, nut gathering experience.
The 7/11 re-worded to “Open during the day, all season".
Primitive and modern “egg-timers" would need re-engineering, with more glass and more sand. Hydraulic assistance may be needed to set it, though!
The time we made has left us short and the only constant is its absence.
A “second" compounds the issue and makes a minute, sixty times more offensive. Give me a second when you have a minute, and similar language is a common or timely response. Sports are sometimes measured in microseconds, which exaggerate everything by approximately sixty thousand, and the human eye still has a finite response time. A second, perhaps, has nothing to do with a second chance, and is unsympathetic and unrecoverable.
Presumably, it is too fast to recover, by something so slow.
If a minute was badly made, then a second and its divisions were made with over-zealous and ambitious incompetence.
If I could live for just one more second, how many I had, would have little significance.
If I could live for just one more minute, then it would be less significant by a factor of sixty; such is the perceived importance of a second.
If I could possibly live for just one more microsecond, then. . . . . . . . sorry. . . . . out of time. . . . and its implied irrelevance.
Such timely attributes and elements are of ultimate importance, when one has to dodge a well-directed bullet with an unpleasant payload. Of course, this time pressure is exacerbated when one has to tend to the microwave contents and its ill-timed bell, while such a bullet is in flight!
Having said that; and if you are still reading, then you made time where it was anyway. You simply prioritised it a little differently.
Having said all of that, I have minus eight days and 0.0000279 seconds, to attend my dental appointment.
"We made the minute; can we make the time for it?"
Seamus Dolly is at http://www.CountControl.com