Time flies, fun or no fun

We editors are by nature observant individuals. So we at work could not fail to notice when a wall clock near my cube began exhibiting strange behavior, such as telling the time correctly. No, just kidding! This clock keeps excellent time, being an atomic clock, which is the most accurate type of clock and keeps time better than the earth's rotation or the movement of the stars. This leads us to wonder why some clock company hasn't yet come up with a marketing campaign aimed at the earth and stars:

Salesman: Heyyyyy, I hear you're running a little slow.

Stars: Whaddya mean? We're very accurate.

Salesman, Welllll, by my calculation you're losing 1.00000001 second every 20 million years! You just can't afford that inaccuracy. I have just the clock for you! It'll make you accurate to within just 1 second every 20 million years!

But back to our wall clock.

After behaving in an exemplary manner for a year or so -- except for not making 5:00 come sooner each day -- one day without warning the clock hands suddenly started speeding around the dial. They raced around, as if in pursuit of an elusive, perfect time, until finally coming to rest exactly 8 hours ahead. A co-worker and I watched as, first, quitting time came and went, then evening -- "I missed dinner!" she exclaimed -- and finally a very, very late bedtime.

As this was by far the most exciting thing to happen at work that day, the two of us wasted no time in telling our co-workers about it, and everyone came to stare at the clock, as if by doing so we could divine its mysteries.

The following day at the same time the clock hands once again sped around the dial, stopping short of the correct time. Sometime later it happened again, and this time the clock finally showed the right time.

We thought that was the end of it, and we would have to look elsewhere for entertainment and diversion, but on the third day at the same time the clock again sped up to 8 hours head. This time there were several witnesses, and we all stared at the clock as if seeing a spaceship land right there in our hallway.

We immediately began formulating conspiracy theories about the cause and meaning of the clock's behavior. The most popular theory involved some sort of cataclysmic atomic event, which for some reason had no effect on anything but our one humble clock. Perhaps, we thought, it portended some yet future, more catastrophic event, one that might possibly allow us to leave work early.

So of course we did what anyone would do in the face of such a momentous occasion: We are planning a party around this event, as one might share an eclipse with others, or the aurora borealis. Of course we will have food, and possibly little festive flags to wave, and maybe we'll invite the press. And soon the salespeople will be knocking on our door: "I heard you need a new clock...."