Yeah, I said Friday Limericks. Commenter Anfractuous reminds me that I missed the actual Friday, if you want to be all technical about it. I do apologize–life is a bit hectic right now. I will post about it soon, but a Major Life Event is coming up at the end of the month–it is very very good news for me, but comes at a difficult time (long story short–the cuttlespouse has been out of work since Christmas. Things are ok, but what should have been an overwhelmingly cool thing is a very very cool thing that is also an added stress. And this is a better time than most to thank the people who have used the tip jar.)
So anyway, time occasionally gets away from me. And today being Limerick Friday (work with me here), I shall have my revenge.
Time’s an illusion, you know
And lunchtime, of course, doubly so–
It so rapidly passes,
Or slow as molasses,
And where did my yesterday go?!?
The telling of time is an art
Take, for instance, the time we’re apart:
That time is not reckoned
By hour or by second,
But measured in beats of my heart.
I remember when days used to last,
And a year was impossibly vast;
It seems yesterday morn
When my children were born–
How the hell did they grow up so fast?
My days, though to say so seems trite,
Seem to pass at the speed of–well, light.
If I only could see ’em,
I’d carpe each diem,
But they so quickly pass out of sight.
There–your turn! Time is of the essence!