Staring at one of those spinning images on my computer screen, whilst something was loading (or was it? You’re never really sure, are you?), I started pondering how much of my life I’d spent doing just that. And it got me thinking.
Of course, once upon a time, in the dim, distant, dark ages of computing (so any time prior to last year, then), a spinning loading image was a handy pointer that you had enough time to pop off and make a cuppa, do a spot of hoovering, and – depending upon the complexity of whatever it was trying to load – maybe even have lunch.
Not now though. Things have moved so fast, that loading times have been dramatically reduced, so we need only spend seconds waiting. What was once considered miraculously brief is now considered more lethargic that anaesthetised sloth. But I’ve done the calculations, and I reckon I see that little spinning thing, in all it’s varied forms, at least a dozen times a day. Say... 5 seconds on average. That’s a minute a day. Doesn’t sound much, but that’s 6 hours a year lost! I could almost understand how to put together a chest of drawers from Ikea in that time. Or watch Groundhog Day three and a half times. Which would probably cause my irony detector to explode.
When you start considering things this way, it gets distinctly frightening. I’ve calculated that I spend at least 30 seconds trying to get into the plastic bag inside the new cornflakes packet without tearing it so badly I sprinkle breakfast cereals liberally all over my slippers in the morning. That’s a minute a month. 12 minutes in a year. Say I live to be 80, and deducting a couple of decades when my Mum sorted that kind of traumatic, life-damaging, thing out for me, and that’s half a day of my life wasted.
And what about that terrible moment of indecision at cash machines, when you aren’t sure which button the arrow on the screen is actually pointing at, and panic that you might be about to order a chequebook, and not cash with/without a receipt? Once a week? 5 seconds, maybe? Over 4 hours lost. That’s enough time to listen to the first 8 Beatles albums. Or one side of your average Prog Rock LP from 1974.
I’ve actually no idea how long I’ve spent staring into cupboards, drawers, and even the fridge, thinking “What the hell did I come here for?” And assumingly that’ll get exponentially worse as the years go by, too.
And what of the genuinely heavy stuff? I spend roughly 16 days of my life each year driving to and from work. Surely I should get a pay rise for that?
Right. I’m turning over a new leaf! I’m going to take back all the lost moments, and do something useful with my life! No more wasting time for me!
I’ll just check twitter first...
This post first appeared in my 'Thank grumpy it's Friday' column in the North West Evening Mail on the 3rd of May 2013. You can view the version published online here, where it was renamed 'So much time doing nothing'. I guess that explained it a bit better, but I thought mine was cleverer. Still... no-one likes a smart-arse, eh?
(Bloggage tonight accompanied by Supertramp's "Retrospectable" anthology.)
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