I wouldn’t normally set my alarm. The person beside me was usually enough to get me out of bed when they awoke. But when I was on my own I generally did set one. It was more superstition than necessity. My body clock - or whatever you wanted to call it - would always wake me, but I didn’t trust it. The new blackout blinds had a psychological effect on me more than superstition, it should be said. Now if I woke up early I had to reach for the phone to check the time - I couldn’t rely on whether it was dark or light outside.
My ritual was fixed. Up at six, shower, dog walk ( same route each day ) coffee, ten minutes reading the news on my phone and then work. At weekends I was brought a cup of tea and things generally shifted an hour forward.
So it was quite a shock when I woke up this morning, a little disoriented. I had no idea what the time was. It felt like it could be early - never a bad thing - those delicious minutes were a gift to myself before I had to get out of bed. But upon reaching for my phone things felt different. There was a definite lightness to the morning - which wasn’t right. When I touched the cold dead screen of my phone to wake it I was shocked. 12.30 exactly. I knew exactly because it flipped between 12.29 and 12.30 as I watched.
Shit! My first thought, sadly, was that I needed to call or check in with work - I’d have to make something up, but as this had never happened before, I felt sure I’d get away with it. I walked into my office ( the box room, I work remotely ) and flipped the laptop screen, putting my finger on the Touch ID button to log in - it refused. Which was odd. Normally it would ask for a password if it deemed it inappropriate to accept my fingerprint - but this felt more that it didn’t recognise me. I typed my password instead, which was fine ( even if I was half expecting it not to work )
The lateness of my start was not the only shock I was in for. There, at 8.04 this morning was my ‘Good morning’ message in the team chat. I know, it’s a strange thing, but the whole team gave a greeting when they first sat at their desks in the morning. And there I was.
I noticed a message for me in chat from a colleague whom I've known since I started working in this current job - and I clicked on it.
“ Oh, mate. What were you thinking? Good on you, we all think that, but I’m not sure anyone would say that to his face ”
There is, I feel, a scale of fear. The cold you feel flooding through your body, the drop in your stomach that you have done something bad. Then there’s the need to urinate. This was where I was now.
What had I done or said to my boss - as clearly this was who she was alluding to. Or was it? I checked back in Teams to see whether there were any other clues - but there were none. I looked in my calendar and found a meeting I was due to be in. In my email a message with a link to the recorded video of the call. This meeting seemed to be the only contact I could have had with the person I assumed I had expressed myself to.
Could it be? With enormous trepidation I double-clicked the link, the video expanded onto my screen and there - clear as day - was me, far right. It was a me that I didn’t recognise, flushed, perceptively quivering I thought and looking more angry than I have ever imagined I could be …
Photo: Penzance, 2024. Nikon d750.
Something uneasy about this piece. Brilliant writing from cool calm collectedness to this. What a shift.
So good Richard! Compelling to read and a great ending