When we are younger we imagine time is far less finite. But of course thus is an illusion, all time is relative, dependent for our species entirely on the duration our rather insignificant planet takes to complete a rotation under harsh glare of an equally unimpressive star at the edge of this particularly home-spun galaxy in the wondrously ever-expanding universe.
I have found that time can drag terribly as we age, tediously even, making for long periods of nothing important happening whatsoever, requiring some serious effort just so simply pass moments along, as if abstractly sifting sand between outstretched fingers. Creating one of this life’s most absurd dichotomies altogether.
Sleep is a marvelous distraction, a short pleasant relaxing snooze will fill a vacant moment quite perfectly, and thankfully the ability to catnap do improve quite nicely with consistent practice and we lucky elders have usually had more than one or two occasions available occasion to perfect our performance.