Here is an interesting quote indirectly about time:
When a Southerner took the trouble to pack a trunk and travel twenty miles for a visit, the visit was seldom of shorter duration than a month, usually much longer. Southerners were as enthusiastic visitors as their hosts, and there was nothing unusual in relatives coming to spend the Christmas holidays and remaining until July. Often when newly married couples went on the usual round of honeymoon visits, they lingered in some pleasant home until the birth of their second child. Frequently elderly aunts and uncles came to Sunday dinner and remained until they were buried years later.
Margaret Mitchell, Gone with the Wind, (Scribner: New York, 1936), p. 153.
So where does our sense of time come from? Schedules, work, traffic, travel, or people?
Something to think about.