I’m listening to the ticking of the battery operated clock that hangs on the adjacent wall across from my desk. It’s a lonely sound. I also hear a slight ringing in my ears and the tapping of my fingers against the keyboard as I compose this. These are the sum total of sounds I hear. I squint from the glare of my monitor, but It’s cloudy outside and the room is cast in a dreary mixture of shadows and gray mush. I just yelled at my husband for no reason in particular and that’s why I’m down here in my office writing to no one in particular and with no particular subject in mind. It’s just another day.
I’m not angry or upset. I’m not sure what I’m feeling. Maybe it’s boredom, apathy, or monotony. I don’t care enough to pin it down. Day 335 of Covid-19 living. I’m not sure of that number, I just pulled it out of thin air. It seems about right. I know I’m not alone in my current state. Many of us have reached our dew point where the fatigue of sameness has settled in like a fog. The dullness of it all, despite the weather. I offer no self-help, no solution to our current situation. In fact, the only thing I might get pissed off about is if someone honestly tries to give me advice on how to cheer up and persevere.
This sucks. The situation sucks. I’m tired of binging on Netflix and getting in the car to go absolutely no where. I’m tired of making dinner and shopping on Amazon. The dog’s even bored with our walks because I’m too bored to change up the route. I’ve cleaned closets, organized drawers, and taken down all Xmas decorations. I’m so over all of it and yet I know it doesn’t matter whether I’m done with Covid-19, it’s not done with me or you. So, Oh Dear Lord make it stop soon for all our sakes.
I know, not exactly pearls of wisdom for this new year. We all feel how we feel. This is how I feel today.