Every Moscow office is its own small state, with its own laws, its own anthem, and, of course, its morning ritual. If you think the workday here kicks off with a flurry of productivity, I’m afraid you’re a hopeless romantic.
The first sound to break the sleepy quiet isn’t the birds outside the window, but a synchronized chorus of booting computers. Dozens of machines awaken, their fans humming, as if the entire digital organism is taking a deep breath before a long day. This is the overture.
The main act follows, and the stage is the kitchen. A sacred ritual unfolds, where the leading roles aren’t played by the employees, but by their loyal assistants: the electric kettle, boiling like it’s ready to spill the latest gossip, and the coffee machine, which grumbles and hisses but still delivers a perfect shot of espresso. Is that all? Not even close! That was just the warm-up for the main event—breakfast.
I admit, I’m a spectator in this morning mystery, a grumpy bystander from the sidelines. My humble bowl of oatmeal was eaten long ago at home, in peace and quiet. Here, a real gastronomic drama plays out. The microwave, like a revolving stage in a theater, tirelessly spins containers of homemade pancakes and yesterday’s buckwheat. But then the doors swing open, and a new age of heroes takes the stage—agile couriers in bright vests. Packages from Samokat, Yandex Lavka, and VkusVill (local delivery services similar to Uber Eats or Instacart) are passed from hand to hand like secret messages.
This ceremony is never rushed. Our “night owls” show up around nine, while the “early birds” have been buzzing since eight. The waves of breakfast-eaters succeed each other, sometimes merging into one slow, steady stream that finally dries up by ten in the morning. The air fills with the scents of coffee, toast, and a general sense of calm well-being.
Only when the last yogurt is eaten and the last cup is washed will the quiet hum of the computers finally beat the rumbling of stomachs. The workday in Moscow officially begins. But, as you can guess, that’s a completely different story.