I may have to get divorced: this happiness stuff makes time go too quickly

What happened? Where did 2007 go? Come to think of it, where did the last 10 years go? It’s as though there’s an egg-timer on my desk that measures how much time I have left, only it isn’t working properly. When I keep my eyes on it, the sand trickles through at a steady pace, but whenever I look away the hole opens up and vast quantities of sand fall through at an alarming rate. How else to explain the fact that there’s so little left? I’m reminded of one of John Cleese’s soliloquies in Fawlty Towers: ‘Zzzhhoom. What was that? That was your life, mate. Oh, that was quick. Do I get another? Sorry, mate, that’s your lot.’

Has any scientific research been done into why time speeds up as you get older? Christopher Fry once remarked on this, pointing out that ‘after the age of 80 you seem to be having breakfast every five minutes’.