I found myself trying to answer the question: Why?

Why?

Because sometimes the truth escapes,
wrinkles and collects dust.
Because words are water.
Because there are no sides, just paths.
Because reason isn't always able,
and sometimes when you can't find the key
you just have to break down the door

Timesheets in Elizabethan times:

CHAUNCEY: 'tis barely dawn m'lord

M'LORD: And dawn shall come Chauncey, anon, and dusk. The counting of the day registers your every breath. We must be Up! For the light spills on the horizon and Kronos demands his daily offering.

CHAUNCEY: Shall I send for your time steward sire?

M'LORD: Make haste man! The chariot of Apollo beckons!

STEWARD: Ready m'lord....

M'LORD: Take this down, every word of it! The annals of time must brim with my accomplishments!

STEWARD: Brim sire?

M'LORD: Enough of your nonsense, Prepare to submit my time!

STEWARD: Of sourse sire...

M'LORD: What was that?

STEWARD: ....mmmmm ready sire, at your leisure.

M'LORD: Right, well it was the first of November, I remember it quite clearly. At 7:00 I awoke and used the chamber pot, only to discover I didn't have to go, then I stood and marveled at a passing squirrel carrying the most marvelous leaf I'd ever seen. By then it was 8:00 and time for the morning meal. I curtailed my rodent gazing activities and sallied forth into the dining room where Chauncey was....

And that's the way it was November 5th, 1568....