Recently I was wondering what time it was. I mean exactly what time it was. So I googled the exact time and ended up at timeanddate.com where I discovered that the time on my laptop was correct (to within a few seconds). As I glanced at this very interesting web page I saw an app that counted down to a specific time and as I happened to have a use for exactly that sort of thing I looked into it. The time works marvelously well, super impressed I applied it to a web site that I help to run and set it to count down to an event in October. That done I stopped to look more closely at this bit of HTML code and realized that it would also count up from a specified time. In other words it would graphically display the amount of time that had passed since a particular day in the past.
Foolishly I reconfigured the code to count up from a day long ago, just out of curiosity. I could have chosen so many interesting dates to count up from, important dates in history, events of great note or interest, the birthdays of famous and influential people. But instead I rather foolishly chose my own birthday. Efficiently the program began its count up as it displayed that I have been on this earth for 17, 460 days! The size of the number gave me pause for reflection. I watched the graphic display count away the seconds of my life while I wondered at how many of those 17, 460 days I had wasted idly, how many of those days had I spent working for a living, how many had I spent doing something worthwhile? I have slept for 5800 days! Where did the time go?
What is time anyway? Albert Einstein said “The only reason for time is so that everything doesn’t happen at once.” That’s a relief. My time is fully occupied with what is going on as it is. If everything happened at once it might get to be a bit much- at times. Albert also said “When you sit with a nice girl for two hours, you think it’s only a minute. But when you sit on a hot stove for a minute, you think it’s two hours. That’s relativity.” How many of my 17,460 days had shot past whilst I did something thoughtlessly pleasant? How many had dragged on for decades whilst I slaved at some unpleasant business? I like to think that there has been much more of the former and it would go a long way to explaining where the last quarter of a century went. O, call back yesterday, bid time return, in the words of the bard. But would I really? I doubt if I would. Perhaps I haven’t really wasted so many of those 17, 460 days as I had at first suspected.