There is no way anyone can convince me that the recent interruption in my posts lasted only sixteen days ago. No way. I wandered in the wilderness for at least six months.
Funny, isn't it, that we think we have this time-measuring business all worked out? After all, we have accurate-to-the-millisecond watches and clocks; we have calendars and books full of information on the rotation of our planet not to mention all the amassed knowledge on the history of measuring time. Still, in spite of all that data, we understand so little about how and why we experience time in the various ways we do. (There are some experts who at least think they know something about the subject—I have read a little on the topic.) Still, that information isn't part of our everyday lives the way clocks, calendars and such are. After all, a school child understands the basics of reading a calendar and telling the time of day. And, most societies have an abundance of time-measuring devices that are understood even by the young. On the other hand, theories about the how and why that explain the elasticity of time are not part of our basic vocabulary.
Enough mulling of riddles, the point is that the three weeks seemed to be an eternity and the wilderness I wandered in was dark, thorny, and bumpy. Along the way, I seemed to be constantly collecting psychological bumps, scrapes, and bruises. Finally, I am enjoying the brightness out here and looking forward more than ever to getting my clock and my calendar all tuned up and functioning normally.