Sometimes I get lost in days - days that seem so alike, they roll into each other.

It's easy to lose track of hours at work, especially when the task at hand is interesting. I look up once and it's 1 o'clock. I look up again, it's 6 in the evening. No wonder I'm thirsty.

It's easy to lose track of days when I'm busy. One moment I'm struggling to get out of bed for work on Monday, the next, it's Sunday evening and I'm shaking off the pre-Monday blues. Whatever happened to whatever happened in between?

It's less easy to lose track of months, but I realised that I've managed even that when Christmas is around the corner and I have yet to send out my Christmas cards.


Had to laugh when I saw this tweet:

"Stop saying “11/11/11″ only happens once in a lifetime. EVERY date only happens once in a lifetime. That’s how time works."

— Mike Drucker (@MikeDrucker) November 11, 2011

I really must remember though, when the week seems to roll into one long day, to experience each day as if it's Christmas, as if it's the first day of the new year, as if it's my birthday, as if I'm moving to a new city, as if I'm graduating, as if I've just gotten a new job, as if I've just quit my job, as if I'm just about to embark on a long holiday, as if I've just returned home from a tiring journey, as if I'm just about to start a new life, as if tomorrow will be my last.

If every day only happens once, then I've really only got 24 hours to make it special. Why let it remain mediocre? But then again, just because it will never happen again, do I really need to force some meaning onto everything?

The transitory nature of being, the non-existence of return; it's both the gift and the curse of time. It's as heavy and as light as we choose to make it.

"That's how time works."