at some point in your life you will be boiling fruit, water, sugar, and lemon juice in a pot to make a syrup or jam. the instructions will tell you to simmer for a certain amt of time. your timer will go off and you will look at the pot and go, “hm, this doesn’t look thick enough. maybe i’ll let it go for another 10 minutes.” this is the devil speaking. it’s only so liquid right now because it is at boiling point. it will thicken when it cools down. learn from the follies of my youth and do not let this happen to you
at some point in your life you will be making a sauce or a stew in which you need to add cornstarch to thicken it. and you will prepare a slurry of starch in cold water and think “this looks like way too little starch to thicken this amount of liquid.” this is the devil speaking. cornstarch instantly polymerizes at 95°C and if you add too much it will turn into an impossibly thick goop.
at some point in your life you will be making some sort of cream based dessert that requires gelatin to thicken it. and you will soak some gelatin sheets in water and think “this is too few gelatin sheets for this amount of cream.” this is the devil speaking. it will thicken in the fridge and if you add too much you will end up with milk jelly
Me for the last 15 years: Starting a timer when you have to wait for something or stand in line can be helpful, because no matter how impatient you feel you can check the timer and remind yourself it has not been several eternities and has in fact only been five minutes.
Me setting a timer when I got to bag claim just now: I’m so clever! I will now be reminded that it’s only been five minutes and bag claim usually takes about twenty!
Me looking at the timer thoughtfully: …another Very Neurotypical Moment With Sam, it appears.
FTR it was 17 minutes from “arriving at the bag claim” to claiming my bag, so right on time.
Someone tagged this post “#it’s all fun n games until baggage check takes over an hour” which is 100% legit; a common sentiment in notes is that sometimes you don’t want to know how long something has taken. But that is one of the reasons I started doing the stopwatch thing in the first place!
On the one hand, timing something is about reminding myself “No, it’s only been five minutes,” but it is ALSO about knowing when something is taking way longer than it should.
If I’m put into an exam room in a doctor’s office, I start a timer. Because I have been forgotten about in a doctor’s office before, I get nervous that I’ll just be sat in there forever, and the timer tells me “No, they haven’t forgotten you, it’s only been 10 minutes.” But it also tells me if I have been there longer than appropriate (generally more than 40 minutes) so that I know when it’s justifiable to flag down a nurse to find out what’s going on.
At bag claim, because I know it usually takes about 20 minutes to get my bag, I don’t get concerned until the timer passes the 20 minute mark without any bags appearing. At that point I know I need to take off my headphones and start paying attention – looking at signage, maybe asking someone if I’m at the right carousel. Maybe don’t worry yet, but start double-checking. Perhaps the delay is unavoidable and it’ll just be an hour, but at least, having asked, I KNOW it’ll be an hour, and the timer will tell me when the hour is past and I should maybe check in again.
Now, if the bags do start showing up before 20 minutes but my bag hasn’t shown up by the 40 minute mark, I know that again it’s time to put my head on a swivel, and at the 50 minute mark it’s time to go speak to someone in the baggage claim office. This has more than once helped me locate my bag when it’s accidentally been sent to the wrong part of the airport. There is no point at which, without the timer, I would go “man this is taking a long time” and then actually go ask, because I wouldn’t actually know how long it had been.
The timer both prevents me from worrying before I need to and tells me when to start worrying – essentially, because I’m both perpetually impatient and also infinitely patient, I’ve outsourced my patience to a stopwatch. And because I time a lot of things, I now know the average time a lot of things take, which helps me calibrate my concerns appropriately. Ten minutes is a long time to wait for a burger from McDonalds, but it’s actually on the short end of the time it takes to get a burger from Shake Shack. It’s not a long time to be on hold with the HR office of my old employer, but it’s longer than I’d usually be on hold with my pharmacy. Et cetera.
I know I say this all the time but I still find it hilarious that I didn’t know I had ADHD until I was forty years old.
just want to add that I’ve started timing myself doing everyday chores and tasks and having a more realistic, personalized idea of how long things take has helped a lot with my time blindness.
I only just started, and it’s not yet habitual, so there’s only a small bit of info, but it’s already made it easier to avoid rushing or getting stuck in waiting mode because it takes out a lot of the guesswork.
And it lets me have grace for myself when something is really taking it out of me. I’m right, this *is* taking forever and it isn’t usually this hard, so what’s going on? Do I need to rest? Eat? Did I forget my meds? Am I overwhelmed? Etc.
I feel like a scientist gathering and applying data.
Showers on typical days only take “about ten minutes” (me, 2025), therefore, I CAN shower before my appointment that’s two hours away.
Contrary to popular belief, doing a quick tidy takes “less than half an hour” (me, 2026) and will not take the better part of a day. I don’t need to dread or put it off because I can start a 20min episode and I’ll be done before the credits roll.
The proposed estimate of “10-30 miserable minutes in the cold when the warm blankets are right there” (time blindness and depression, 2024), is erroneous, and based on pre-medicated data. As tempting as it is to go straight back to bed after peeing, my research shows that brushing teeth, including “prep and cleanup,” rarely takes more than four minutes and may even improve morale and momentum when getting up for the day.
This is awesome and hey guess what: you ARE a scientist gathering and applying data!
I’m super proud of you and everyone who is working to keep their lives together in the face of disability and the general horrors of the world right now. Keep up the great work! And if things slip a little that’s ok too. None of us are perfect. Just keep taking notes…for SCIENCE!
I found a tiny Wolverine action figure today and already I’ve decided that my favourite thing in the world is to carry him around in my pocket and take him out to give cognitive behavioural therapy type recommendations to my brother in a gravelly voice when he least expects it
Absolutely love Hamlet Act 4 Scene 5 where Horatio enters the room along with the Queen and the Gentleman who explains about Ophelias madness, stands there for a while without saying anything, then leaves right after Ophelia. Horatio, why are you even there? What’s going through your mind? Why does everyone who isn’t named Hamlet literally ignore you in every scene? Why didn’t you mention Ophelia’s madness to Hamlet when you guys met up in Act 5? I have so many questions.
What I find so fascinating about Horatio is how he seems to act merely as Hamlet’s shadow for most of the play. There’s one line in Act 5 where Claudius addresses Horatio directly*, but other than that, all the major characters except Hamlet act as though he doesn’t exist. He’s present when Rosencrantz and Guildenstern speak to Hamlet after the play-within-a-play, but his presence isn’t acknowledged by either of them. He is present in the above mentioned scene with Ophelia, but nobody acknowledges the fact that he’s there. In the gravedigger scene, there is no actual dialogue between him and the Gravedigger. It’s the same with the Osric scene, where Osric only ever seems to acknowledge and reply to Hamlet’s remarks, and during the duel where nobody except Hamlet talks to him.
Then there’s the dialogue between Horatio and Fortinbras at the end. Now that Hamlet is dead, it’s Horatios turn to step out of the shadows and finally take the centre stage.
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* «I pray thee, good Horatio, wait upon him»
I’m not saying it’s possible to do a staging of Hamlet where Horatio is Hamlet’s imaginary friend, but I’m also not saying it isn’t possible.
… there is an idea of a Horatio, some kind of abstraction, but there is no real me, only an entity, something illusory, and though I can hide my cold gaze and you can shake my hand and feel flesh gripping yours and maybe you can even sense our lifestyles are probably comparable: I simply am not there.
There’s also the equally devastating possibility of Horatio being a ghost that only Hamlet can see (and the guards and Fortimbras?), and Claudius’ line could be read as a prayer to Hamlet’s departed friend, unaware that he’s right there.
I think part of the reason why we feel so sad is that we’re too far away from raw, numinous experiences. Like you know that post with a picture of the unpolluted night sky where people are reacting in terrified awe not realizing that’s what the stars really look like?
I think it’s like. You need vivid experiences that can’t be easily repeated. You need elemental things. I don’t mean this in a crunchy hippie just-try-yoga way I mean this in a way that’s like…we’re inside all the time and most things we experience are scheduled ahead of time. When there are sidewalks, we follow them, and there’s always some boring place to go. You need things that no one has any control over and that no one can sell for money.
You need to be outside in a storm and see lightning strike very close to you. You need to meet a wild creature and have to stand very still and almost not even breathe and watch before it vanishes. You need to be alone somewhere very big. You need to go to a place because it looks interesting and be at the wrong place at the wrong time. You need to climb over a fence instead of going in by the gate. You need to hear the exploding sound of a huge flock of birds flying. You need to watch live theater performed by kids on a low budget. You need to be lost somewhere. You need to be barefoot somewhere. You need to sing with other people who are singing. You need to get soaking wet with all of your clothes on and come inside shivering.
