Double-Spaced: A Wrinkle in Time

If you haven’t already heard I am now also blogging every Tuesday over on the newly-launched, under the title Double-Spaced.

Today’s post is about the weird wrinkle in the space/time continuum that surrounds my desk, and mysteriously makes time disappear…

“I write – or try to – at a small desk in a corner of my bedroom. The desk has to be small because my bedroom is, and my bedroom is small because when you move out of home when you’re 19 to live with a boy, come back again when you’re 21 because rent is expensive, leave again when you’re 22 to work abroad and come back again (again) when you’re 26 because your US visa expired, you get stuck with the box room. But I digress. Looking at this desk – compact, piled with papers, home to a New York Starbucks mug filled with pens and pencils, overlooked by a notice-board hanging above it on the wall and beside that, a sign that says GIVE ME COFFEE AND NO ONE GETS HURT – you might get the impression that it’s your standard, run-of-the-mill work station. But although imperceptible to the human eye, this desk sits amidst a wrinkle in the space/time continuum – nay, a vortex – where time mysteriously disappears at a frightening rate. I sit down at it around ten every weekday morning and yet by six that afternoon or a whole eight hours later, I never seem to have got much done. Where does the time go? And how can you stop it going there?”

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