Me at 3:30: "Oh man, it's only 3:30? I'm starving! I'm never going to make it until 5:00! 5:00 is so far away!"
Shuffles into the kitchen. Shoves 2 quarters into the vending machine. Clutches Snickers bar in paw.
Me at 3:48 after finishing Snickers bar: "Shit! It's almost 4:00! I just ruined my dinner!"
What the heck happens in that span of 30 minutes? 3:30 is like the middle of the afternoon with absolutely no hope of ever seeing the outside world again. Then 30 piddly minutes tick by and suddenly you're in the homestretch? "Oh it's 4:00? Pffft, I'll answer those emails tomorrow!"
And today the turning point was at 3:48 - only eighteen stinking minutes after I felt like all hope was lost. It's interesting, and I'm just going to chock it up to the fact that our entire existence is probably some kind of messed up psychological experiment.
|Another of life's mysteries|