It’s not hard to forget that my morning tends to begin after much of the workforce has already taken its first break. The crush of the 9 to 5 office workers that comprises rush hour comes after the slower, more staggered commutes of the people who provide the maintain the infrastructure and provide the services that support the businesses full of people who shuffle data and imaginary money.
The city that never sleeps stirs groggily from its half-conscious night dreaming at around five in the morning, downs its coffee, and is hard at work by 8:30. The morning that I and most people with my kind of job deal with is a rushed invasion of already bustling commercial space that most of us unconsciously assume just magically appears at 8:45.
Commuting at seven to a 9 to 5 job is a calmer experience. Because the noise hasn’t hit its stride, the engines revving and gates screeching seem starker, and more in focus against the quiet. Because the sidewalk population is still far below critical density, commuters walk calmly, and seem possessed of purpose and determination instead of fear and calculation. The people awake and serving coffee seem happier than anybody drinking it. I expect this is partly because it takes a certain kind of person to wake up at sunrise, and partly because that’s better for your body clock anyway. Once, long ago, I made a point of having a couple hours to myself before going to work, and enjoyed my week days much more than I do now. But my New York is a city of the night, because a country boy loves the city for its lights and shadows, not its honest face.
One Comment
Speaking as a member of the pre-commuting community, I can tell you there is a certain punch drunk giddiness that infects the body when you wake it up at 3am regularly. This stands in for sanity until about 8:30, and can often look like happiness, when in fact we just don’t quite know where we are or how we got here.