Occasionally, there's a weekend where I don't have much to do and I spend a day at home. I wake up late, spend the morning in my pajamas before taking a shower sometime early in the afternoon, and eat a late breakfast. I do some homework, or maybe go for a short bikeride. I'll think about calling a friend and seeing if they want to do something that evening, but usually decide that I'm happy to have the time to catch up on doing things by myself. Sometimes I read.
Every day this happens, there's a brief moment where I look around me and realize that the sun has gone down. And then I realize that it's no longer afternoon, that evening has started, and the day is starting to come to a close. And every time this happens, I suffer a short, profound feeling of loneliness and loss; a feeling that the day has been needlessly wasted and is forever gone.
And then something catches my attention, and I forget, and it's evening, and everything's fine.