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You ever notice how waiting feels like it's measured in a completely different unit of time? I mean, we've got seconds, minutes, hours, and then... the eternity that is "waiting seconds." You know what I'm talking about, right? You're at a traffic light, and it turns red. You check your watch, and it's like, "Oh, it's gonna be just a couple of seconds." Next thing you know, you've reevaluated your life choices and planned your retirement. I swear, waiting seconds are like the black holes of time – they just suck you in. And don't get me started on waiting for the microwave. It's like, "Hey, I just wanna heat up this leftover pizza, not discover a new dimension!" I've started timing it with my phone, and those 60 seconds might as well be a geological era. I've aged three years waiting for popcorn to pop. It's a scientific fact that waiting seconds are the reason time travel isn't a thing yet. You enter a waiting room, and suddenly you're in the future, wondering if they forgot about you.
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You ever set a timer on your phone and then get distracted by the endless vortex of apps? You're like, "I just need to wait for my cookies to bake," and suddenly you're watching cat videos, scrolling through memes, and before you know it, your kitchen is on fire, but your phone timer is still blissfully counting down. Phone timers are the ultimate multitasking enablers. They're like, "Oh, you need to do laundry? I got you covered. Set a timer, and enjoy the rabbit hole of productivity." It's a trap. I once set a timer to remind me to call my mom, and when it went off, I was in the middle of a heated debate about the existence of aliens on some internet forum. Sorry, Mom, I got abducted by the internet – blame the timer.
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So, we've all played this thrilling game called "Beat the Microwave Timer," right? You punch in a time, hit start, and then it's a mad dash to get something done before it beeps at you like an impatient toddler. It's a race against the microwave, and that timer is the most judgmental referee ever. You hear it ticking away, and suddenly, you're in a kitchen Olympics event. I'm convinced that the microwave timer gets faster when it's below 10 seconds. It's like, "Oh, you thought you had time? Bam! Two seconds left, and your soup is lava." You start doing these microwave sprints, leaping over furniture, dodging pets, just to rescue your food before the dreaded beep of shame. And the worst part? It's not even a loud beep. It's like the microwave is whispering, "You lost, buddy. Your dinner is now officially cold.
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You ever use a stopwatch and think, "Who designed this thing, a time-traveling tortoise?" I mean, there's a start button, a stop button, but finding the reset button is like embarking on a quest for the Holy Grail. You press every button, shake it a bit, and suddenly, it's counting your lunch break as an Olympic record. I tried using a stopwatch during my workout once. I hit the start button, did my thing, and when I checked, it said I broke the world record for a 5-minute mile. I was like, "I may be out of shape, but I'm not Usain Bolt." The stopwatch had its own agenda. It's like, "Oh, you wanted an accurate measure of time? How about I just make you feel like a superhero instead?
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