When I was growing up, my dad and both of my grandparents used to tell me that being unable to get up on time was “laziness, pure and simple”. For a while I believed them, and added it to the growing list of faults that I knew I realistically wouldn’t ever fix.

But as I have grown up, I have realised that as it’s all largely a genetic lottery, having pride in the ability to get up in the morning is actually stupid and boring. It’s because the accusations associated with not being a morning person are ones of “slovenliness” or “laziness”, both of which are literally sins. In Dante’s Inferno, there is a Circle of Hell for lazy people which involves getting drowned for eternity. Drowned.

The worst morning people get accused of is being a bit lame at parties.

I know there are professions that require punctuality in the mornings, but these almost invariably involve a similarly punctual leaving time and fewer late-night conference calls with people in America. The only time it requires ‘bums on seats’ is when there is a meeting. Because at root, inflexible working times are immature and rules for the sake of rules are stupid.

Pictured: you, if you have ever hit “snooze”

LONDON, 2014

From: Matt Foyle
To: SELECTED_STAFF
Date: Friday, 10:00
Subject: Housekeeping

Hi everyone,

Shitty email to be sending on a Friday but it has come to my attention that you are late for work almost every day. I would like to reiterate that the work day commences at 9.00 am. This means bums on seats, ready to work at 9.00 am. It doesn’t mean here ready to have breakfast, shower, or shit. It means it’s time to work. This is what you are paid to do. Make sure you do it.

Matt

From: Alex Bower
To: Matt Foyle
Date: Friday, 11:11
Subject: Re: Housekeeping

Hi Matt,

Why?

Thanks,

Alex

From: Matt Foyle
To: Alex Bower
Date: Friday, 11:20
Subject: Re: Re: Housekeeping

Because that’s when the working day starts at this agency. You were told this on your first day here. By me.

Matt

From: Alex Bower
To: Matt Foyle
Date: Friday, 11:25
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Housekeeping

Hi Matt,

I remember you telling me this, although without the bit about the fixed shitting times. I also remember you telling me it would end around 5.30, however I have not once left anywhere near this time, largely because I have a lot to do. So I assumed there was some flexibility with mornings too.

Given I have around one face to face meeting per day, I could in theory work from anywhere at any time. Sometimes I work from the Wetherspoons round the corner. In fact, we all work over email. So so could you. So could the entire agency. Why don’t we just move to Spoons? Warm beer is still beer.

I could spell out other practical differences between us, such as the fact that I live over an hour away compared to your ten minutes, or the fact that I am the world’s most extreme night person while you post Instagram pictures of your avocado breakfasts. But I have a feeling it would be a waste of time because you have the number nine in your head and those are, after all, the rules.

Thanks,

Alex

 

From: Matt Foyle
To: Alex Bower
Date: Friday, 13:58
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Housekeeping

Why is your time more important than anyone else? 9 isn’t exactly early. Maybe you’ll be able to go home earlier. Grow up. We all manage fine, you’re not special. And if I find out your drinking on the job that’ll be the end of it. Just cos your mum probably let you do whatever you want doesn’t mean you can now. This is my house and I make the rules.

From: Alex Bower
To: Matt Foyle
Date: Friday, 14:46
Subject: House Sleeping

Hi Matt,

My mum not letting me do exactly what I want is probably one of the key things that has helped me develop the skill of reasoning. It also left me with cripplingly low self-confidence but that’s a story for another day, between the hours of 9.00 and 5.30. Perhaps we can work out a time when I’ve consulted the shitting rota?

I had been under the impression that this was a creative agency, and not some kind of manual labour based profession, or a prison. As I have still not received the mandatory basic training in how to lift objects with my legs, I assume this must be a prison. And you are the man with the keys. I have sent a note to my biological rhythm and it has agreed to change. As of next week I will be tucked up in bed by 11 and flinging open the curtains at 7 so I can come to prison on time every single day.

Thank God it’s over.

Alex

From: Matt Foyle
To: Alex Bower
Date: Friday, 14:48
Subject: Re: House Sleeping

Good.

From: Alex B
To: Matt Foyle
Date: Monday, 18:03
Subject: Is it Monday?

PRISON DIARY, Day 1.

Someone must have slandered me, because one day, without having done anything truly wrong, I was arrested. Sirens appeared by my bed in the night, and I was compelled inside a tube full of sweaty people, where I was forced into a stress position within someone’s armpit. My fellow prisoners were numerous and mostly suited. They were tired, and they were miserable. My mind was disorientated – before I could take stock of my situation, I was forced out of this human cattle train and marched into a building. Not having had time to eat, I was hungry. I begged for food but was directed towards a room labelled “The Office Canteen” for a bowlful of slop. I have never tasted such foul gruel in all my life and was forced to abandon it in spite of my agonising hunger.

I do not know what these people want with me but when I asked the chief jailor whether I could go yet because I had been in my seat for exactly seven hours with an hour for lunch, I was told “yes, you little prick.” I do not know yet if letting me leave is part of a longer, more sinister plan.

From: Matt Foyle
To: Alex B
Date: Monday, 18:55
Subject: Re: Is it Monday?

Very fucking funny Alex. I notice that you did turn up on time though so I guess it’s an improvement.

From: Alex B
To: Matt Foyle
Date: Tuesday, 13:27
Subject: What do they want with me?

PRISON DIARY, Day 2.

I do not know how long I slept last night. It can’t have been long, because I was not truly conscious until approximately lunchtime. No one provided with me with anything to do or any reason to be inside so as far as I know, I went on a shoe shopping exercise around the nearby mall for two hours. But then I had the overwhelming feeling of guilt that, although I had no tasks to do, I should be sitting in my seat. So I returned, only to do nothing. But at least I was there.

From: Alex B
To: Matt Foyle
Date: Tuesday, 16:59
Subject: The plot thickens

PRISON DIARY, Day 2 AFTERNOON.

The head jailor I know only as M. His motivations are unclear, as are his responsibilities. They mostly seem to be checking if I am here on time.

I received a “briefing” today and believe I am supposed to perform some work, although I am too tired to understand the nature of it. Instead, I have been filling my time with a website I found called YouTube, which my tired brain is currently just about able to handle. At first glance, this is a method of delivering cat videos to me, but I have begun to wonder whether this is part of M’s cynical plan somehow.

From: Matt Foyle
To: Alex B
Date: Tuesday, 17:01
Subject: Re: The plot thickens

Jesus Alex. You’re not funny. Two things: be on time, do your work.

From: Alex B
To: Matt Foyle
Date: Wednesday, 10:49
Subject: When is my trial?

PRISON DIARY, Day 3.

M came to see me today, in person. He was angry for some reason. I panicked as he took me by surprise, but I settled down when he was able to convince me that he hadn’t come to take me away or check for contraband. Which is good because I have a bottle of rum stashed in my drawer.

I asked him where I was and why he was doing this to me. Through the prism of my exhaustion, I don’t remember his words exactly, but they were along the lines of “it is not necessary to accept everything as true, one must only accept it as necessary.”

From: Alex B
To: Matt Foyle
Date: Wednesday, 15:32
Subject: Don’t I get a phonecall?

PRISON DIARY, Day 3 AFTERNOON.

M has started arranging ‘meetings’ at 9.00 every day. As far as I can see, there is nothing to actually have a meeting about and according to the “Outlook calendar” that everyone has, everyone is also free one hour later. I have come to believe, though I also believe I am losing my mind, that this is some kind of technique to demonstrate that he has power over me and the other miserable souls.

My theory is that they – whoever ‘they’ are – aim to bring me to the point of no return, so that I will never find my way back. What they plan to do with me when this is finished is anyone’s guess, but for the first time today I began to doubt that I would ever leave here alive or fully sane.

From: Matt Foyle
To: Alex B
Date: Wednesday, 16:51
Subject: Re: Don’t I get a phonecall?

Right, this is annoying now. Stop. Filtering out any emails with PRISON in from you.

From: Alex B
To: Matt Foyle
Date: Thursday, 11:27
Subject: Extremely important question about timesheets

JAIL DIARY, Day 4.

For the first time since I arrived here, M said the word ”please” to me. But he keeps me confused by constantly calling me a “prick”. As I constantly worry about where I stand with him, I try my best to resist Stockholm Syndrome. Time will tell whether this works but I pray for the sweet release of a sleep where I do not dream of him. I’m afraid this may be death.

I have been receiving emails from “finance”, asking me for some things called “time sheets”. They cannot trick me into doing these – I lost track of time long ago and I will not give them another point of leverage on me. I will resist their scheme for me to my dying breath. Whatever time I have spent here, be it days or hours, I am too drained to think, and have instead just been doing basic filing tasks. I find comfort in the mundane – it’s all I’m able to comprehend now.

From: Matt Foyle
To: Alex B
Date: Thursday, 11:44
Subject: Re: Important question about timesheets

Stop being a prick. You have to do your timesheets you are NOT getting paid until they’re done it’s as simple as that.

From: Alex B
To: Matt Foyle
Date: Thursday, 16:49
Subject: A Sisyphean Task

JAIL DIARY, Day 4. AFTERNOON

M’s behaviour has become increasingly erratic. He keeps coming up to me and asking “if I’ve done my fucking timesheets yet” and his written messages no longer contain punctuation. He is ranting around the cells at everyone. Something about the final day of accounting for the quarter. I don’t know what that means but I am afraid I may not see the next one.

I have given up working out why they are keeping me here. I know they are insane – this is why they are able to approach my constant questions without doubts. I long for their insanity.

Today, to keep myself occupied and my thoughts away from the hellish limbo I find myself in, I gazed out of the windows to the ground 20 stories below and imagined myself falling into the freedom of death. But the prison I find myself in is one of glass, and, unable to deal with the basic hope that dreaming affords me, I have taken a new desk and made it face the wall. Every time I leave it, it keeps being moved, so I put it back. I must have done this ten times today. I feel like I am rolling a rock up a hill only for it to roll down once again, over and over. The last strands of hope holding me together are becoming increasingly strained.

From: Matt Foyle
To: Alex B
Date: 16:59
Subject: Re: A Sisyphean Task

I knew that was you. For fuck’s sake. Do you do any work?

From: Alex B
To: Matt Foyle
Date: Friday, 09:50
Subject: Freedom at last

JAIL DIARY, Day 5.

I have come to believe it is so pointless to leave that, even if I wanted to any more, the pointlessness would render it impossible. I fear that I am broken completely. My oppressors, whoever they are, have won, completely and utterly.

I have come to love rules, because they have liberated me from the agony of making meaningful decisions. Maybe they will save me from whatever fate awaits.

As I limp into the unknown future before me, my only solace will be this diary, which I will write an entry into every time I am dragged into the underground train of the damned for this as yet undiscovered reason. Every single time.

From: Matt Foyle
To: Alex B
Date: Friday, 09:58
Subject: Re: Freedom at last

Right that’s it. I fucking hate this shit. I hate that you work here and I’m going to do everything in my power to make that stop.

 

Yep, I don’t work there any more.