Last night I had the house to myself and a few hours to kill. I spent the first bit listening to oldies and doodling while Sullivan napped on my lap.
Kind of mindlessly, because that is how I kind of am, I drew a clock. That got me thinking about time, which is probably to be expected. But that got me thinking about Einstein and space-time and special relativity. I spent the rest of the night listening to Simon and Garfunkel and reading scientific research papers on quantum electrodynamics and the possibility of time travel.
After a paper about how future time travel is supported by good science but travel into the past is not and one explaining the twin paradox, I read something about these scientists and their incredibly accurate atomic clocks able to keep time to within one second in about 3.7 billion years who proved that time can run faster or slower depending on how high you are and how fast you're travelling and about how for every foot above the ground, a person would age something like 90 billionths of a second faster over the course of their lifetime.
For some reason, that specific article made me sad. I'm not really sure what's so depressing about the theory of relativity, but I finally had to shut my laptop and clean the kitchen to take my mind off of things.
And that's probably why I'm more of a housewife and less of a scientist.