Day 66 of self-isolation.
I’ll admit, the past few days have had this weird, somewhat disheartening feeling of stasis. It’s not that I’m feeling depressed, but rather I’m just existing and living each day, going through the motions. However, I don’t feel lost. Unlike some people stuck in quarantine, I know what day it is: “The Masked Singer” and “What We Do in the Shadows” are on Wednesdays (but there are no episodes of “The Simpsons”), “Top Chef” is on Thursdays, “Love It Or List It” tends to run marathons on Saturdays. It’s become a pathetic routine.
Yes, I’m bored as hell — so much so that I’ve been doing work-work on days I’m off the clock, just because I need something to do. Yes, I’m not getting paid or being put back on full-time with the hours I’m putting in, but I’ve run out of projects that I could accomplish with the money that I have. I’ve applied to new jobs just in case work falls through, disastrously (because, admittedly, the scariest thing about this pandemic is the uncertainty of the future). I’m waiting on friends to help me with content for some video ideas, but I’ve learned not to hold my breath. I could cook and bake, but I’m trying to watch what I eat as well as trying to save money during this furlough.
Boredom, I feel, has finally gotten the best of me — and a lot of it stems from a lack of funds. There are so many projects I want to do — shoot film, build something out of wood, finish my garden, bake something new, shoot dog photos — but everything requires money: materials, ingredients, supplies, a dog. I’ve found that I can’t pursue new projects when I have to decide rent and bills are more important than the things that make me happy. With so many survival needs happening at the end of this month (shelter, food, utilities), I’m trying to save every single fucking penny — knowing full well that I don’t have enough to cover everything. I mentioned before that the end of May would be scary, and now it’s the end of May and I feel it. It’s not entirely that financial anxiety, but a feeling of listlessness and un-inspiration.
I’m trying to remedy this by sketching, by rearranging my existing plants, exercising, and by cleaning a whole fucking lot. In between my forced 20-hour work week and while waiting for client approval on work that’s a week earlier than the proposed deadlines, I’ve found myself taking 30 minute to 1 hour naps throughout the day. Being unconscious, I feel, just helps pass the time.
Of course, I feel a sense of loneliness — which I have a love-hate relationship with. I’m enjoying the time to myself, but on the other hand it’d be nice to see somebody. I feel so far-removed, distance-wise, from everybody, and it’d be a pleasure for someone to knock on my door and say hello. Again, this self-isolation wouldn’t be so bad if I had something new to do… and I’d have something new to do if I had a disposable income again.
I’m in no means a religious man, but I’m praying things get back to quasi-normal again sooner than later: to be inspired, to be comfortable financially again, for friends to come over without fear or anxiety. I’m praying that whatever indifference and lethargy that I’m feeling now doesn’t turn into complete dread.
I just need a free, creative thing to do (well, other than writing). Till then, I’ll just keep on smiling and waiting and watching TV.