Time.

As the time before I must arrive dwindles, I'm left thinking about how that time could be better spent. Wide awake in some catacomb-like coffin, I wish I could figure out what I mean. The big hand keeps mocking the little hand. Running circles around him he passed the time. The little hand has it all figured out though, smaller rotations mean less surface area to cover which means less effort. No one ever knew this, but the clock was the first real slacker. People just started telling time and getting ideas.