Doing the Do a CRAB Story

With no more than a week left until Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2 is released into the realm of the real world, I have decided to comment a tad on time and its effects on my mind. I would say time flies, if I believed it did.  Time, in my opinion, is a lousy good for nothing jerk who just likes to screw up your mindset in the hopes of increasing the depression rate in the world.  How is it that minutes turn to hours soo fast when you are actually enjoying yourself, but the second you clock in the rate of time slows to a near halt. Like I said I do not believe time flies because if it did I feel it would spend more time in the air. I pictured time as an overweight balding computer geek wearing dingy grey arm bands, a sweat-stained canary yellow shirt, and dirty white New Balance sneakers that are tied obscenely too tight. This man's only pleasure in life is to speed up time when others are having fun and do his best to stop it when awful activities flourish. See, in my mind time is controlled by a machine much like a treadmill. The fat geek, who I will call Morgan from here on out, is cursed to work in light of his internet sins.  While most of the world is at work Morgan attempts to slow this machine down to the point where he can utilize his laptop whilst walking (a step every once and a while), when most attempt to have fun he speeds up, but as he is very out of shape the burst of energy can only last so long.  Which is why good times seem to always come to an abrupt end.
As I made the transition into the third book today, I realized that Morgan will not allow me to finish these books and be joyful. He has other plans, which include: making my breaks, any time I happen to sleep, and  friendship time feel as though hours were minutes and the opposite for time I am working. Thinking each time I check the clock that I should be reading right now.  However, the time never comes for reading, only work.  Anytime I try to do anything fun Morgan with his greedy overweight grin hops on the time-treadmill-machine and awkwardly runs till my time is up.
Morgan I hate you.

DiCrabs out.