Sigmund Freud’s alarm rang at 7 a.m. each morning. He took one hour to trim his beard and eat a light breakfast before seeing his first patient at eight. After lunch, as his son would later recall, he took a daily walk around the Ringstrasse, the road that encircles Vienna’s oldest district, at “terrific speed.” Come 3 p.m. Freud ushered in his second lot of patients, working through until nine, at which point he’d retire to plays cards or, if he was feeling perky, take another walk with his wife and daughter. Freud ended the day by settling down to write journals until around one in the morning.
