Most slowly when I’m on holiday, the fastest when I’m at home doing routine jobs. January, however, is the month that passes by most slowly although I mostly do routine work.
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When I’m not enjoying myself and when I am.
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It seems to go very fast when I go to bed…In no time at all it’s time to get up…
It goes slowest when I’m in the shower, Mrs Fox always complains how long it takes me to shower, but it’s so relaxing to stand under a hot shower naked and warm…No phones, no interruptions, and you can just be yourself and think about what the rest of the day will bring…Or sing!
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You need to “Faff” sooner rather than later!!
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When I was working, there was this strange thing where you come home Friday evening and suddenly find myself sitting in my car and it’s Monday morning and wondering what just happened to the last two days.
The hours of my working day used to drag like a lodestone and every hour seemed like a month - more so when it came to meetings. But the days themselves would rush past like a stampede. As soon as Christmas was over, it was suddenly April, a few days later it was June, then September and before realising it, I’m Christmas shopping again and trying to recall the last twelve months.
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At work time passes quickly when I’m busy and perhaps more importantly when I’m in good company, I actually enjoy it 
Time passes painfully slowly when I’m watching an episode of Midsommer Murders … sorry butterscotch! 
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lol You’re still spelling it wrong. It’s Midsomer Murders. I’m thinking of watching it in your honor.
The weekends can move slowly when I’m waiting for my neighbors to be jerks and then have to call the police.
Sometimes the weekdays can move quickly when I want to do something, and I’m racing to get it done before the weekend. It can move especially quickly when I have time to take a break and do anything I want.
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When I started working 12 hours shifts (6 to 6) the first night shift seemed to toil on, by midnight I thought I had been there for half my life, eventually the next shift arrived and every shift got better after that but the first one was hell.
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I think 12 hour shifts are torturous and a health hazard.
When I was an apprentice I would have 10,000 plates to drill and deburr and the time just dragged…Later in my career I would have to design and build a special diamond abrasive grinding wheel to a deadline…I wished for longer days…
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Time drags whilst in the supermarket checkout,then life just flies by.
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I have found that when the wife is dress shopping and I’m made to wait outside a fitting room whilst she tries on every dress and pair of shoes in the shop, time will actually go backwards.
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Time goes slowest when someone in the house insists on watching a programme that you’ve little interest in. Time goes fastest in those minutes between waking up and having to get up (because the dogs are whining to get out and pee). Or is that just me?
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Once I got used to them I thought they were great, spent so much time at home. Never regretted going from 8 by 3 to 12 by 2.
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Time goes slowest in the early morning from around 5.30 a.m. to 7.30 a.m. Always wake up too early and lay there bored listening to the News repeating every 20 minutes on the radio.
Time flies by if I can get interested in drawing an image on the computer or editing an existing one (some forums are dedicated to that kind of thing), although that interest can come and go a bit.
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Perusing and writing on the forum eats time…As Mrs Fox never get tired of reminding me.
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Does Mrs Fox not feel the inclination to join the forum and get involved with all the fun and frolics Foxy?
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Mrs Fox hates computers and the internet, except when she asks our daughter to find something on Amazon that she can’t buy in the traditional way. I’ve tried to explain that sorting her finances out and writing in her journal would be a breeze using a laptop or a smartphone, but when it comes to anything digital she has the patience of Attila the Hun…
She does have a very active social life though, helping out at the local church, walking everyday with various friends and attending a keep fit class each week. She worked in a care home most of her working life and still looks in on the local old folk.
Mrs Fox in her younger days…
What the hell happened you may ask…
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I would ask no such thing 
Very fetching Mrs Fox looks too if I may say so.
I empathise with her reluctance to embrace technology, I’m a bit vellum and quill pen myself
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