I can’t remember when it hit me. It could have been when I was completing yet another admin task, using yet another random app called something like “Lettuce”. It could have been when I found myself leaving the office after spending eight hours crouched over a laptop like a dishevelled cave crab. It could have been when I realised that the years were flying by — the pandemic had me locked inside for the latter half of my 20s — and I was still doing exactly the same thing.
Either way, at some point, I thought to myself: I need a bit of leisure in my life, or something’s going to give. And then, all of a sudden, it happened: I quit my job as a senior editor during a cost-of-living crisis, went freelance, became a lot more broke and started waking up whenever I liked.
