The longest ten minutes of life

It's almost 5:00...I say almost, but we all know what I mean! It's almost time for me to shut off my computer. It's almost time for me to gather my purse, my keys, my travel mug and go home for the night. It's almost time to forget the piles that have accumulated on my desk and it's almost time to ignore the phone when it rings!
It's almost...It's almost the longest ten minutes of my life. Everyday, the clock slows down to the speed of a turtle with three broken legs and a fifty pound shell. The second hand stops clicking every second and drags along every other second. Why is this the slowest moment of my day?
Why is my 30 minute lunch break the fastest? Why does the damn second hand jump ahead as if it has just consumed twenty cups of my grandmother's famous coffee, that is still brewed in a perkilator. Why does it skip seconds at a time, only to make lunch hour seem long enough to get up from your desk, heat up your lunch, and realize that before you had time to take five bites of your lunch, you have to go back to the time-clock?
It's almost 4:54, only 4 minutes have past, and I haven't yet given up the fact that sometime soon the clock will read five-o'clock...but then you know what happens...my keys are missing...I left my travel mug in the sink, I need to pick up the stack of tupperware that I have left after two weeks of bringing lunch...I still have to clean up my desk, hide the items that are confidential, pick up the fifty pens that I have used in the day, because each time I needed one it was covered by a piece or a stack of paper, so I reached in my drawer and grabbed yet another. I still have to punch out, I still have to say goodbye to people as I pass, I still have to get my umbrella up and running and walk to my car. By the time I get home, it's like 5:35 and I only live two blocks from our office...why is that the second quickest half our of my day?