For sometime, probably about four hundred years, I've been puzzled by a phenom that I've noticed. It's about time. I don't mean that it's about time, I mean that it's about time.
You know when a chap says that 9/11 was in 2001, almost ten years ago, or when a fellow says that it was in 2005, almost five years ago, that Take That reformed? Or when someone talks about the fact that the year is almost a quarter of the way gone already and that Christmas feels like it was yesterday.
Or when you go on holiday and time passes rapidly, running through your hands quicker than a vast fortune through a couple of generations in a Sri Lankan family.
Well why is it that we're always surprised by the reality of time?
You never hear someone respond along the lines of "oh yes, it feels exactly like the ten years / three months / four minutes you say it was, my dear fellow."
No one ever says that that ninety minutes felt like it lasted ninety minutes. Or that it actually feels like it's Thursday, on a Thursday.
Why is this?
Answers on a comment please. Take your time.