**Originally written on February 27, 2008.
In the ongoing race between me and the minute hand it seems that I always come up short. This is not to mention the fact that it is smarter than me and it knows it. Somehow, daily, it manages to pull the wool over my eyes and at the end of the night it sits and it laughs. Never underestimate the mind games that an inanimate object can play.
Tick Tock. I suppose if I were to set the clock to the wrong time then maybe that would give me an edge. Tick. Then it would be me laughing at how the clock is wrong and there is nothing it can do about it. Tock. Then again, tick, I would be left wondering what time it really was, tock, thus making the clock the better man. Tick, it seems like it has been forever now tock that time has been mocking me, tick, steering me in the wrong direction tock and always being one step ahead of me. Sometimes I will think that I have it, tick, and right as I am about to claim victory, tock, it will escape me, tick, ticking faster than it has in the past, tock, or so it will convince me.
Time is manipulative. It uses me on a regular basis the way that no person has ever been able to. Constantly it convinces me that it is my friend and that it can be trusted and the moment I give it that trust it just betrays me and laughs in my face. Time is power hungry. Time is selfish.
I think that it is time for me to put time in it's place and get a hold of myself. I've got a lot of living to do before it is too late and in the process I will be no clock's bitch.
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