It’s wild how much one minute can change things, or how easily that time can be lost.

Working at a downtown coffee shop this morning I lost my favourite booth to a guy who walked in seconds ahead of me.

This was my booth. It’s where I feel the most comfortable, where I have the best concentration and do my best work.

It’s a popular one. I know I need to arrive soon after opening. But there’s usually a window.

Had I been a moment earlier I’d have had it.

If I’d woken up a few minutes earlier, I’d have left sooner. If I hadn’t shaved, had a morning coffee, or paused in my car to turn on an audiobook before leaving.

I could have driven a little faster. Taken a slightly different route, or parked on the other side of the street. I could have paid for my parking spot online, in the cafe, rather than at the machine outside.

I paused to adjust the strap on my bag, improving its comfort over my shoulder before walking less than a block. These precious seconds lost came at the unforeseen sacrifice of another comfort.

It doesn’t matter, of course. The booth I’m in is nearly as good. And I’m working nearly as well.

But it has me thinking of how many chances are missed because of a few seconds one way or the other.

A chance encounter with a would-be lover or mentor, a winning lottery ticket purchase, a truck blowing through a red light, or the last tub of Ben and Jerry’s Half Baked ice cream from the freezer shelf.

Many of our daily wins and losses come down to the precious seconds either saved or wasted.

And trying to calculate the best outcome will drive you mad.

It’s simply not possible.

We do what we can and hope for the best.