As the hours, days, weeks and months become a blur, it’s no longer clear if time is passing too quickly, or too slowly
“The days are bleeding together and I no longer know what the passage of time is,” a friend in Melbourne messages me. She’s five weeks into her city’s second strict Covid lockdown, but what even is a week any more?
Her days, as she describes them, are mostly work, a monotony broken up only by exercise, cooking, reading, sleeping, eating, as well as an activity she simply calls “balcony” – one that all locked-down apartment dwellers intuitively understand.
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