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Time - My Arch-Nemesis

 

            
            
             My main point of allegation in our relationship is your unreliability. For instance, whenever I am challenged with a new assignment, you mock me with lengthy concepts of weeks and months, only to suddenly pounce upon me mere hours before the deadline. Try as I may, you have a callous ability to send me spiraling into the dangers of procrastination. It is a sadistic cycle accompanied by the reckless ticking of a clock, its hands powered only by your unshakable linear force.
             To no avail, attempt to manage you with intricate iPhone reminders, schedules, and calendars, but just when I think I have you under my control, you contend wildly again as I startle to realize that I am promptly running out of you. "Stop, please! Slow down!" I implore, yet you, of all people, wait for no one. You are merciless. Somehow there just never seems to be the desired amount of you in a day.
             Here lies another source of my displeasure: your paradoxical nature. Why do you always dart away when I call you, but overstay your welcome when I amiably ask (or beg) you to leave? Why must my joyous day curled up with an enchanting book slip through my fingers like sand through an hourglass, but my hour of housework is everlasting?.
             You are especially unkind to me on school mornings, when, through heavy, blurred eyes, I notice your bright red, glaring A.M face on my alarm clock. "Just three more minutes?" I plead, fumbling for the snooze button, but you relentlessly force me out of my contented slumber with a blaring alarm regardless.
             I cannot pinpoint what I've done for you to be so cruel. At the tender age of four, I was introduced to you with a shiny, pink Minnie Mouse watch. I worked incessantly to get to know you in hopes of making you a friend. Unlike many Kindergarten friendships, I couldn't win you over with crayons or cookies, but I assiduously learned your cryptic methods of the wristwatch.


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