Laid low by furlow

More great news falls like cherry blossom on these diseased shores. We have been furloughed.

Our days unspool like broken tape. Where once everything was taught but repetitive now things are unfocused. The anxiety was still there but the sense of order, of repetitiveness is not. Instead we are in a new world. A broken one.

Our new life

Our our little routine is broken:

10 Get up
20 Start work
– 21 Go to 40
30 Worry
40 Finish work
50 Sleep

Now we have:
10 Get up
30 Worry
50 Sleep

We have spooled in a blink from 30 to 50 (oh yes, Mr Gin what an amazing metaphor)

We sleep fitful, having imagined arguments with co-workers, and losing them. Waking up at 4, at 5. At nameless hours in the gloom staring at the curtains. Wondering what is behind them and what is in front of us.

In the morning:

“How did you sleep?”
“Oh not too bad”

We browse three sites on our laptop. We say ‘ The problem is no one understands expodential maths’, as if we do.

Look out the window but the view is just the same.

Back to the laptop. Feeling stale we F5 refresh. Huge computing power only used to refresh webpages we know every word of. Our dreams in statis. We watch YouTubers boasting how they’re making the best of it. We try to make plans but can’t.

How can everything be over when we’re only at the beginning of this?