What was done to him was like what happens on the train, when you think you are moving forward, but are moving backward, and suddenly find out the real direction.
"Yes, it was all not right," he said to himself, "but never mind. I can, I can do 'right.' But what is 'right'?" he asked himself and suddenly grew still.
--from The Death of Ivan Ilyich
time and chicken nuggets
I’m tired out. Meaningless, meaningless.
It occurred to me that the veggie chicken nuggets baking in the oven have a different experience of time than I have. The four more minutes they get to bake is one fourth of their experience baking. It is a significant portion of time for them. For me, however, 4 minutes is reading one page of an article on Hegel. This is so little that I do not even have an experience of “waiting” for the chicken nuggets to be done. They will just be done before I think about them. But one fourth of their life baking occurred in that period of time I deem negligible. This is sad. Though negligibly so. And I wish I were those chicken nuggets so I can get so much accomplished in 4 minutes.