Boy, you come home from work, feed the dog, take him for a walk, sit at the table and eat some food, sit on the couch and hold the dog, read a little bit, and suddenly the evening's gone.
Somewhere in elementary school I remember a teacher reading us this (rediscovered via google): Lost — Yesterday, somewhere between sunrise and sunset, two golden hours, each set with sixty diamond minutes. No reward is offered, for they are gone forever. I remember not having any idea what on earth she was talking about. I must have been too young for an extended metaphor.
Most days on my way to where I work in downtown Bellingham, I drive past Whatcom Middle School, which over its main door has inscribed "Waste Not Thy Hour." A few years ago, that building was gutted by fire. My then boss's son was a student there. The students had to be split up among other middle schools while the building was rebuilt. Here's a nice video about the rebuilding:
My boss's son must have been in 7th or 8th grade when the fire happened, because I think he was in high school by the time it was rebuilt, so he didn't get to go back to the same place.