That wibbly wobbly timey wimey stuff

timeMy life at the moment seems to revolve ever more frequently around railway timetables. It would be nice if the trains were as competent at adhering to them as I am, sadly that’s not always the case.

The only thing worse than relying on trains that run to their own perverse, and private, schedule is having to get up unreasonably early in the morning to avail oneself of this mode of transport, which is happening rather a lot lately. Worse still, I seem to be developing a bad habit that really isn’t helping matters. Just recently, often enough for it to become annoying, I’ve found myself setting my alarm for an early start and waking well before it’s due to go off. I lie there, resisting the temptation to check the time, becoming increasingly irritated with my phone’s reluctance to burst into life and signal the start of another new day. I suppose I could resign myself to the fact that I’m awake, and get up anyway, but that really goes against the grain and there’s always that nagging suspicion that in my still-soporific state I could be giving up a large chunk of shuteye time by mistake.

timemachine_001So I lie there, irritated and restless, as the seconds turn into minutes and the minutes seem impossibly long. Then, just at the point I’ve decided I’m mistaken and there’s still hours until daybreak, I drift away only to be roused milliseconds later by that damn alarm I’ve waited for since first waking!

Contrary to the laws of the universe, and against all logic, I know for a fact that time – as it relates to me personally – is quite definitely not a constant, and it will do as it pleases, no matter what Einstein might have to say about it. Take the minutes spent standing in queues, sat on trains, or hanging around in airports and hospital waiting rooms… They quite definitely last far, far longer than average minutes, and aeons longer than whole hours spent indulging in any sort of fun.

time3Similarly, a day in work can easily last several years, but when I get home and log in to SL, an infinitesimal amount of time will pass before it’s time to log back out again. It amazes me just how much I manage to get done in such a brief interval. Last night, for example, I did a spot of shopping, chatted with friends and then spent what should have been a couple of hours dancing and socialising. So why is it that when I checked the time it was already well past 11pm, and I have absolutely no idea where that time could possibly have gone?

Time – as Douglas Adams quite correctly observed – is an illusion, (as for lunchtime being doubly so, I concur… Many of my purported lunchtimes are wholly illusory and never actually take place). I can’t help wondering just how much of this particular illusion I may have expended on that other illusion in my life: The illusion of living another existence in a virtual world. That’s a tricky one to answer – currently, I probably spend a couple of hours inworld a few days a week – however it’s been a lot more in the past, and any figure is going to be a rather rough estimate at best, and wildly inaccurate at worst. With that caveat, I reckon I may have spent getting on for 10000 hours inworld over the past 9 years, or to put it another way, I’ve spent about 2 years in SL in the last 9. That’s an awful lot of time, all told.

It’s been said that to truly master something and become expertly skilled, requires 10000 hours of work, so by that measure I guess I must be an expert when it comes to SL…

Except that’s really not the case!


All that time spent doing my virtual thing has made me an expert in one thing only…

Frittering away my time!

s. x

But I know all this means is
Whiling on the hours
Watching sideshows
Ocean Colour Scene – The Circle

This entry was posted in Philosophicalisticality, RL, SL. Bookmark the permalink.

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