Time Is Plastic

Or rather, perception of time is plastic.

There’s a short story by Cortazar I read when I was young (can’t remember the name, sorry) which described this guy riding the train (or bus or whatever) and thinking. The passage narrated his chain of thought for a couple of pages, then it showed him looking at the time. He’d spent 15 minutes thinking and that astonished him because he felt like he’d thought the equivalent of at least an hour.

I remember feeling like someone understood me.


I was falling asleep on my desk today and had to go for a 15 minute power nap.

I walked into the company’s underused Relax Room, found the darkest corner, set my alarm for 15 minutes, half sat half layed down on one of the big cushion thingies, closed my eyes, and started taking deep breaths (the technique involves feeling gravity pull you closer every time you breathe out).

I always do this with the same thing in mind: If I don’t fall asleep at least I’ll have rested a bit. I usually do fall asleep and then wake up in a jump after 13 minutes wondering if I did set the alarm or if I just slept for an hour and the boss is ready to sack me.

It is a good strategy for an energetic EOB.


Today was a record breaker: I woke up from long ass vivid dreams THREE TIMES in those 15 minutes.

You were in every fucking one of them.

I always woke up when you touched me.

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