In a few days, it’ll be Spring. We’ll have survived Winter. It’s a lovely sunny day today, as it was yesterday – though, in between, we had rain and gale-force winds that lead to power failures across town and trees crashing to the ground. You wouldn’t know it now.
Then it’s the weekend. It’s Friday afternoon, and though the distinction means less than before, I’m still glad to have a couple of days off. There’s no pub tonight. No wine at the wine bar on the way home, no dinner out. In about an hour I’ll pack up and walk into the next room and that’ll be it.
I’m tired. As I’ve said before, I think it’s mental. You need colour and distraction to keep the mind active. When you slot into the same groove day after day, you grow stale, and so does your mind.
Right now I’m dreaming of holidays away. I sent a message to a mate before suggesting maybe we should plan a trip to somewhere exciting or cool next year. I presume that’ll be possible again one day. I need something like that to look forward too.
Everyone says that lockdown has been tougher the second time around and I’m starting to feel it too. I can understand how, for some, it’s debilitating. It’s boring, and it feels pointless.
One day we’ll look back on this time with wonder. We’ll see it as a turning point because even if we get through it healthy, there’ll be a lot of things changed forever. I suspect we might look back at it in much the same way I look back at being homeless. We’ll wonder how we managed and will shudder at the prospect of ever enduring it again. It may seem worse in retrospect than it did at the time, but I’m not sure that’s not just a trick of the light.
Tonight I’ll cook my dinner. It’s the lockdown special I think, spag bol. If I don’t watch the footy afterwards, I’ll watch a movie. Tomorrow is said to be another bright day, and so I’ll be early out to walk Rigby by the beach with Cheeseboy and his Bailey. The afternoon will be a bit of this, a bit of that: a bit of housework, maybe some cooking, the footy perhaps, and hopefully some writing. Then dinner and another movie.
Sunday…I cook breakfast, that’s the main difference. I’ll write. I’ll walk Rigby. I’ll catch some of the footy. I’ll watch a movie or a show.
Sheesh. Maybe I’ll open a bottle too.