One more day of rifle season. Time seems to have gone by quickly. In fact, I've noticed the weeks are going by faster now too. I don't even bother feeling down when it's Monday and I have to go back to work. Seems in next to no time, it's another weekend. I've been thinking about this. It might be the novelty of life has worn off. That sounds worse than it is. It's not that I don't enjoy what I do. However, my brain has become so adapted to the kind of things I normally do that it says "been there, done that" and doesn't feel the need to fully register those sensations all over again. I end up with the illusion that time is shrinking. The easiest way of making time slow down again is to have new and novel experiences. Think I'll clean the house. (For me, that will be a new and novel!)
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