These days, I can only measure time in waiting for the next milestone event, a birthday, a wedding, buying a car, meetings, arrivals, departures. There is no routine. And what little that would constitute as a pattern under any other circumstance is quickly dismissed in light of all other outstanding uncertainties. So the best we can do is share drinks after long days of work where the conversation unsuspectingly turns to theories of relativity and the subjective perception of time. In less than two weeks I will be going back to pack my place and wrap up loose ends. Not sure what to anticipate; time may have passed as a rollercoaster for me with no point of reference since I have left, but how I may perceive it when I return to New Orleans will be the real telling.
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