At least this dude is enjoying himself. |
Seems we’re all a bit woo-woo, mentally
speaking, at the moment. But what I don’t get is why Rob and I are affected. We
blasted through the first month of lockdown feeling very pleased with ourselves
for being in rural Bulgaria, where the number of cases is low. We smugged to
each other about having a big garden and a chest freezer. Then a few days ago
we just … deflated. Why, when our life is carrying on pretty much as normal?
I mean, we already had the skimpiest social
life going. This whole not-going-out thing is normal for us, and that’s the way
we like it. So why do we suddenly feel so claustrophobic and antsy?
We’re used to living in each other’s pockets
99% of the time. So why are we getting on each other’s tits so much? Why does
he seem glum and why am I so irritable this week?
I work from home and ordinarily display
Spock-like levels of self-discipline. My working life hasn’t changed, except
for a slow-down in the volume of work. So why can’t I concentrate for shit
right now?
Example: I just did an online Moonpig order for
a friend’s 40th birthday. Ten minutes later I get that pee-your-pants
feeling and think, ‘Wait, did I even sign my name at the bottom of her card?’ I
go back to Moonpig and discover that, yes, thankfully, I did sign my name, but
that’s all. No customary post-name kisses. And I left off Rob’s name. It’s too
late to change it, so my poor friend will just have to put up with a very curt
birthday card that completely excludes my partner of 14 years.
I wander off and forget to reply to WhatsApp
messages. I read emails about 14 times in a row because I can’t seem to
remember what the previous sentence said. I walk into the pantry, switch on the
light and think, ‘What did I come in here for then?’ I call things by the wrong
name so often, Rob’s stopped correcting me (and he fucking loves
correcting me).
Why? Why, when our life is very much fine?
We’re taking our vitamins, eating well, and sleeping well. Folks back home are
as safe as they can be (*touch wood*). We’re having more video chats with people
than ever. The garden explodes a little more into life each day. It’s asparagus
season. And, obviously, we’re safely tucked up at home, far removed from the
realities of frontline work.
It's been a slow spring, but things are greening up at last. |
A good haul, earlier this week. |
So why are we morphing into crap, sad zombies?
One theory, of course, is that the lockdown
novelty has well and truly worn off. But I’m not so sure. I think it might be
the opposite. I think we might be (whisper it) a bit sad to hear talk of
lockdown measures easing, both here and back home. I’m not ready for it to end.
Setting aside the bigger picture of whether it’s even safe to ease restrictions,
I just haven’t got anything meaningful to show for it yet. I had all these
grand plans to be creative and active and productive, and other things that end
in ‘ive’ (reproductive? deductive?).
Instead, life outside is already returning to
normal (in BG, at least) and I’ve done nothing useful except not get sick. Oh,
and we’ve frozen a lot of lemon slices. So I guess that's good.