“I’m going out.”  Was the faint remark decreed from my girlfriend, shuffling her small feet into her decorated sandals with overlapping thatched tendrils covering her feet, with compliant placidity at the bottom of the landing. What an astonishing concession for me! It was like a publican granting full access to his alcoholic consumables to his most loyal custodian. “I should be back in about an hour” which–due to my girlfriends latent evaluation of time meant that I had at least 2 hours of additional gaming. “You can come as well if you like?” was her passing precursor before I feigned the unsuitability of the engagement and retorting in a concise but evasive tone: “Oh I’d like to, but I need to shower and I’m not *cough* feeling great”. Citing false pestilence to procure an extension to my gaming may appear duplicitous, and contrary to my musings I don’t shelter resent for my significant over, but trust me its better than the alternative (which involved copious amounts of window shopping) *shudder*. Replete in the mornings amenities, attired in appropriately comfortable furnishings, bristled by the slightly autumnal morning breeze that would soon meld into the precipitous climate we in the UK have become acclimated to over the past month, I commenced my gaming prerogatives thus extending my vicarious life, which is a tragic measure of the excitement in my life right now. Of course before this I began the day in the usual fashion by testing numerous abdominal toning techniques to enhance my already sculpted and vascular diaphragm *insert generic straining muscle sounds* (Hey, I’ve already been economical with the truth once I may as well let it work in my favour). Then breaking my fast with plentiful miscellany of oats and cloying berries and sipping honeyed tea…….

“I’m back!” Was the declaration I received, despite the anonymity of any proposed question. “What?….What?! She’s only been gone for……Oh! nearly 2 hours?! What…just….but….really?!” Was all my internal faculties could discern from the pronounced elapse of time. Now unless she had subtly exchanged her Renault Clio for a Delorean in the proceeding time away, and short of being some kind of witch demon–a notion I haven’t entirely precluded–then it can only be attributed to my absorption into gaming. The accelerated lapse was incredulous. The vacuous allocation of time was so comprehensively fleeting that I never truly basked in the remedial affluence of effusive gaming. It’s also worth noting that I didn’t just exhaust this supplementary expenditure, wistfully reciting the atmospheric conditions or staring vacantly out of the window with ponderous appraisal of my vestigial surroundings,with introverted reflection of my purveying countenance and maligned sense of importance; I understood the fragile brevity of my position and gripped the opportunity fluently. And I realise there is nothing really profound about the fortuitous appropriation of time to passively procrastinate for hours on end, but moments such as these at my age are so infrequent that they have to be arrested with fervent immediacy. But its odd how captivation helps us perceive the world, that our auxiliary exploits feel temporarily stationary, that we become so consumed by the consummate virility of our experiences, that time becomes superfluous. And besides it was a Sunday, what else is there to do besides sleeping and relaxing? The gardening?……Oh crap! I forgot to mow the lawn! Curse you reality!

Does time elapse quicker for you when gaming? Let know your thoughts. Cheers