Ticking away the moments that make up a dull day...
In a steampunk way, of course.
You fritter and waste the hours in an offhand way.
Games people play, to quote another song. Some days - particularly Mondays, it seems - I wonder about how I choose to use my time. I want to tell some of my colleagues "If you hire me for my expertise and then willfully ignore my advice, aren't we both wasting our time?" I find myself thinking I'm better off wandering through Caledon, where I can at least provide a little amusement for my fellow citizens.
Every year is getting shorter
Never seem to find the time,
Plans that either come to naught
Or half a page of scribbled lines...
In the meanwhile, I watch the clock count down the hours.
(Image from http://artdonovan.vox.com/library/post/art-donovan---saturday-may-17-2008-113858.html; lyrics from Pink Floyd, "Time")