Life is busy. I’m not sure how – I never seem to go anywhere, or do anything, and yet I am time poor and motivation starved. The giant lettuce in my garden – tall rather than nicely rounded and plump – seem a perfect metaphor for my lack of drive. I planted them, with every intention of using them in salads, but inevitably I have just abandoned them to grow wild. I’ll dig them up once they start to die then just be left with a black space in the veg patch.
I have half completed knitting projects and cross stitches, my “writing a bit a day” journal abruptly becomes empty pages months ago, despite me having done a really good job of it for two whole weeks. There are dusty packets of tarot cards, which I swore I would memorise the meanings for. My house is a tip. I’ve put on more than the average pandemic weight gain.
Dr Chris Van Tulleken, of the Dr Chris and Dr Xand Operation Ouch variety (we love a bit of Operation Ouch in this house) presented a documentary on Ultra Processed Food, which got me ditching the processed vegan stuff in favour of “only buying locally reared meat from farm shops and butchers” which just as quickly turned into “what’s on offer at Sainsbury’s this week, and how soon can they deliver it.”
I’ve got letters that have needed to be posted for weeks. Can I find the brainpower to do anything? No.
Last week I was happy to write off my lack of action because I’d had my second covid jab (Team Pfizer) and the first one had left me with major brain fog for about a week and a half. This second one doesn’t seem to have bothered me at all – even my arm was a bit “meh, been there done that” and didn’t bother to ache.
This week? It’s the start of the school holidays, my website needs an overhaul, I should be writing, I’ve got a trip to London planned for next weekend so I can’t possibly do anything before that (TikTok informs me that this “waiting room” that I put myself into is a symptom of being neurotypical… and there I was thinking it was just a symptom of being me…) And somehow for the next few weeks I have to combine working from home (a priviledge I am lucky to have) with entertaining a 7 year old. Or at least, reminding said 7 year old that I’m here occasionally, while he binge-watches Bluey on CBeebies.
Talking of Bluey, I have cried at more television in the past few weeks that I have in years. Everything sets me off. No I’m not pregnant. This morning he watched an episode where Bluey makes a friend on a camping holiday who is French, but they find ways to communicate anyway, but then the friend has to leave early and Bluey didn’t understand why they were gone the next day. Cue me bawling my eyes out at Bluey’s mum explaining that some special people are only in our lives for a little while but that doesn’t make it any less special (I’m going again…) Kids TV is brutal at times.
Work is busy – which is good, after almost a year on furlough, and of theatre closures, it’s amazing to have so much to do. But with my brain constantly feeling it’s watching the battery icon in the corner of my phone draining away, knowing that it’ll soon give up entirely, I am finding things a struggle.
And have I mentioned how much I don’t like the heat?
But let’s look on the bright side – I spent £730 on a tent that we’ll get to use in a few weeks time when we head to Norfolk, and again the week later when I get to go to a festival! Plus, there’s the London trip to look forward to, and then it’ll be September again and Little Rebel will be back at school.
And I just rescued a bumblebee from the bathroom.