Morning. I’m bleary, from head to toe bleary. I can hardly focus, but of course the first thing I do is shine a blinding email-shaped light into my eyeholes, in case anything urgent has happened overnight. I’m currently working between York and the US, all from the comfort of my home, and it turns out people on other continents like to keep themselves busy while I sleep.
What used to be a gentle amble into the day (pastries and coffee and Lauren Laverne) is now a frantic overlap of time zones either side of the Atlantic, smashing together with conflicting schedules. It’s all exceedingly disorientating, and I haven’t yet figured out how to handle it. By the time I’ve tackled one country’s yesterday, I have another’s today to contend with, and the first one’s tomorrow is creeping up in the background–
Thanks to the you-know-what, geographical boundaries for the deskbound worker are dissolving. Unfortunately, so is the fabric of time