I felt like sleeping for five years but they wouldn’t let me
—Charles Bukowski, Ham on Rye
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I don’t know about you, but the grind gets me down. Day in, day out, the same routine, never a break but the odd vacation. And you know what they say about vacations; when you get back, you need another one. Used to be days were more regular, in the zenith of the unions. You put in your time and you get some back, enough at least for a good night’s sleep. No more. The machine never sleeps, and neither can we. If you have the good fortune to live in the U.S., you and I can call ourselves blessed inhabitants of the most overworked nation in the world. Europeans may have it better, but maybe not by much.
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February 2020
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