Once again, I look to the television for the time, only to remember that there's no clock there. When you give up cable, one of the things they don't tell you is that you may not have enough clocks in your house.
Sure there might be one or two in the kitchen, on the microwave, say, or the stovetop, and everybody in New York carries around a supercomputer in their pocket these days that's linked to a freaking atomic clock somewhere in Nevada or some such nonsense.
But there's something simultaneous frightening, and a little thrilling, about not exactly knowing what time it is, not caring, just letting the hours wash over you, living a slightly more elastic existence unfettered by the tyranny of time.
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