Time takes on a very strange connotation when it comes to writing. Ok it’s not only with writing since most people experience that time flies when you’re having fun and crawls when you’re bored. But time seems to take a life of its own when you write or plan to write or procrastinate to write. It has a whimsical bent and is neurotic, bipolar and slightly schitzophrenic. Don’t believe me? Take an alarm clock and set it to go off in 10 minutes. Now start writing. Really, start writing, and then come back, I’ll still be here.
…10 minute writing break…
Did you just stare at the post, shrug and continue reading? See, 10 minutes didn’t mean that much, did it?
Did you really do the exercise? Was it the most grueling 10 minutes of your life? No, then it was 10 minutes you spent writing. Did it seem long, short, or did it just feel like 10 minutes?
Ok, this is going to boggle your mind, what if I told you that I also took the break for writing, when I wrote ….10 minute writing break…? Did those ten minutes really exist? Ok, ok , no existential stuff then, but just imagine: I wrote this in the past, but you are reading it now. You still get to read these words. The time was spent as I said,and when you skipped over the ‘break’ that was still 10 minutes spent on writing, it was not your 10 minutes but mine, which still counts as 10 minutes… 10 minutes compressed into 4 words and 2 empty lines.
See, I told you time was strange when it comes to writing.