Can you really run into the grocery store and be out in less than thirty minutes? Rarely does that happen to me.
What about reading? Just let me read thirty minutes. What? My time is up, are you sure it wasn’t just ten minutes?
The recipe says thirty minute prep time. As I’ve stated before, that never works for me. Sorry dinner will be a little later tonight.
Thirty minutes evaporates whenever you are totally engaged, but I have found one activity where thirty minutes feels endless, time crawls.
Every day I face thirty minutes with resignation as I climb on my bike connected to a trainer in the garage to begin nonstop pedaling. A TV on the workbench tries to distract me from the inching of time. Pedal, pedal. I pick up my phone looking for distraction. Pedal, pedal. I can read email, three minutes pass. Pedal, pedal. What else can I do with my phone? Pedal, pedal. I’m limited because I seem to move too much. My finger hits the wrong thing if I try to play Solitaire or Word Warp. Pedal, pedal, pedal.
Finally, the timer sounds! The pedaling slows. I’m sweating, breathing heavily as I gingerly climb off the bike. Thirty minutes completed! Until tomorrow . . . when the pedaling begins again.