One interesting thing that I’ve noticed about growing older is that you become acutely aware of the existence of various unexplainable phenomena, things that only reveal themselves to you after years of assorted life experiences and careful observation. A good example of this is the existence of the gremlins that keep stealing my car keys and leaving them in random places where I’ll never think to look for them, such as in my dishwasher or on the roof.
Another of these natural phenomena – one in which intrigues me greatly – exists on a much grander scale, involving the very concept of space and time itself. In addition, it’s something that I’ve become quite familiar with over the duration of my professional career. In fact, it’s even been deemed “Kurt Minutes” at my current place of employment, undoubtedly because I was the person who first brought it to everybody’s attention. To briefly summarize, Kurt Minutes is when, mysteriously defying all of the laws of physics, the very fabric of time itself – yes I said time! – is somehow bent, warped, and twisted to the point where it begins to temporarily operate on a completely foreign scale, one that’s uncharted by all forms of conventional measurement.
For example, I may contact a coworker and ask if they have five minutes to go over something with me. They’ll agree, and – cognizant that time is indeed money – I’ll succinctly and clearly articulate my point and gather the necessary feedback within the allotted 300 seconds. However, if Kurt Minutes has somehow gone into effect, these 300 seconds will have mysteriously morphed into some other elapsion of time, perhaps thirty minutes, perhaps even forty-five!! Eventually, the universe will snap back to its normal state of being, and my coworker – having obviously been affected by the very rules of nature bending before their eyes – will come out of it listless, groggy, and barely articulate, to the point where they’ll only be able to say such nonsensical things as “Do you even know what a minute is?” or “Next time I'll bring a pillow!” or “You did it again! I really should kick you in the head!”
Interestingly enough, I long ago determined that I have either developed – or have always been inherently blessed with – an immunity to the aftereffects of Kurt Minutes. This means that while I can experience it like anybody else, I never feel tired or drained once time snaps back to its proper state of being. It’s truly quite fascinating, and I suppose that in the interest of science, I should probably donate a sample of my DNA to whatever university or large research conglomerate is currently studying this phenomenon, as it might prove crucial in helping to synthesize some sort of vaccine.
On a semi-amusing note, Kurt Minutes has now become sort of an inside joke with everybody I work with. Now, while I personally find this cavalier attitude to be a bit strange, I suppose it’s just a natural reaction to them being faced with something completely out of their realm of comprehension. In fact, this carefree outlook has gotten to the point where if I ask somebody for a few minutes of their time, they’ll quite often smirk and reply, “Kurt Minutes or real minutes?” This always makes for a good chuckle, and I admire their wit and candor in the face of the unknown.
Now, you may be wondering why the continual threat of Kurt Minutes hasn’t completely freaked out all of my coworkers to the point of them seeking out new forms of employment. It’s a great question, and my answer to you is as elegant as it is simple: You see, although you may not realize it, Kurt Minutes is most likely a universal phenomenon, and so it probably isn’t something that only occurs to my coworkers and I at our shared place of employment. In fact, I’m quite certain they’ve all seen it manifest itself many times outside of their daily jobs, which means that quitting would do absolutely nothing to spare them from its effects. (And, before you ask, I have considered inquiring about it with a select few of them. However, I’ve never followed through, mainly because I make it a strict policy to never question any of them about their home lives, just in case one of them turns out to be, for example, a serial killer.)
What does support my theory, however, is the fact that Kurt Minutes has occasionally happened to me outside of work, manifesting itself in a very similar way: I’ll explain something to a friend, but the short five minutes I'll take to do so is then somehow twisted and bent into a full hour or more, leaving my friend in a rather frazzled and disheveled state, to the point where it almost seems they’re regretting the various life decisions they’ve made that have led them up to that very moment! Yes, that’s how disorientating and powerful Kurt Minutes can be!!!
Now, at the risk of sounding braggadocious, I have to say that I’m completely unafraid of the fact that time and space occasionally goes through these – for lack of better words – cosmic hiccups. This is mainly because in all of my time experiencing Kurt Minutes, it’s never gotten any worse, nor has it become any more prevalent. In short, it seems to be mired in a stable sort of instability, and I’ve long ago grown used to dealing with it. Plus, my immunity to its aftereffects – whether developed or inherent – makes putting up with it quite easy, as aside from the loss of time, I never come out of it any worse for wear.
Not everybody, however, shares in my immunity, and I realize that’s quite unfortunate. However, it’s still very manageable, and if this is the first you’re hearing about Kurt Minutes, I urge you not to worry about it. It’s just something we all have to live with. Plus, to be blunt, there are much more important things we should all be focusing our energies on; for example, trying to figure out how to catch those darn gremlins that move around our car keys. Those little buggers are sneaky!!
