The Atomic Second

I think I had something like 6 full minutes alone at home today and it was the most beautiful 360 seconds I've had in a long time. It felt like time stood still. It was quiet. I could breathe. I loved it.
Right before my paradise came to a screaming child end, I had been thinking about the concept of time. The illusions we have of time. How is it that some days at work, it's lunch time and it feels like I just got there (don't say it Rebecca), and some days I swear the batteries in our clock must be dead. Some days fly by and some of them drag. Most times, 6 minutes can seem like barely enough time to do anything. Sometimes they can feel like an hour.
I'm wondering if I knew ahead of time that I was going to have just 6 minutes, would I have enjoyed it? Or was it because it was unexpected free time with an unknown end that it seemed so long?
Since I was thinking about time today, I did a little reading about it, and I learned something I don't recall ever knowing before.

Until right before I was born, what we all know as one second of time, was defined in terms of the Earth's motions. Then that same year, when teeny tiny me was discovered, the teeny tiny second got a new defintion. Unlike me, it hasn't changed. The definition is still 9,192,631,770 cycles of the Cesium (see-zee-um) atom's resonant frequency.
What?
Cesium is a metallic element, used in the atomic clock, which, so far, is the most precise method for measuring time. If you shoot microwave beams at some Cesium (don't do this yourself) and measure the vibration of the radiation, multiply it by that huge number above, you'll get yourself one cute little second. The scientist have tried this with other elements and molecules but Cesium is the only one with the frequency most relative to astronomical time. The first atomic clock was made using ammonia, but it wasn't so great.

So, that's it. That's what I learned today. I thought it was interesting.
Now I want my 9,192,631,770, times 6 or whatever, resonations back.