Time never passes evenly. There are years that pass like days, hours that pass like weeks, months that expand and contract beyond the fluctuations allowed by the variance of a day.
(Of course, science would rob us of this marvel. Research says that our experience of time is linked to our experience of novelty: the newer an experience is, the longer our sensation of the time elapsed becomes. This is why time passes achingly interminably for the young and agonizingly quickly for the old.)
As for me, the days stretch like years, but the weeks rush by like minutes.
Only one thing remains constant: the sense that there never seems to be enough of this mercurial resource.