Time Here All But Means Nothing

Anyone ever notice how time is never balanced?

Either there aren't enough hours in the day to do everything you need or want to do, or the hours stretch on and on and you can't seem to fill them. Whenever you want something to go by quickly and painlessly, it drags on forever and becomes agonizing, torturous. And you think, "End already and get it over with!" But when you want to hang on to a moment, to make it last for as long as possible before letting go, it slips away in the blink of an eye and then it's gone. And you can never get it back. And it's in the empty moments, the days that never end, the days you can't fill up, that you reflect on the moments you've lost. What else can you do when an hour becomes an eternity?

....

Does it shock anyone that I've spent a few hours reading Sartre for a class on Existentialism?
Dreary, isn't it? Which is why I'm not reading anymore of it tonight... which means, since I have more hours of work than I do in the waking day, that I probably won't finish reading the section I'm supposed to. Also my eyes feel like they're about to fall out of my head or explode or both. So they certainly don't want to read anymore tonight.

I hope we have a snowday tomorrow. Otherwise I'm screwed.

Time here all but means nothing
Just shadows that move 'cross the wall
They keep me company
But they don't ask of me
They don't say nothin' at all
And I need just a little more silence
And I need just a little more time
Sarah McLachlan