OYSTERHOOD is reclusiveness or solitude, or an overwhelming desire to stay at home.
How do others survive insomnia nights without Soviet Soldiers Dancing? Last night was bad. Before I moved to the TV bed and finally fell asleep, I was simply paralysed with reality. But there is no waking up from this nightmare.
Yesterday, when I went to the vet and the post office, it took me forever to leave the house and in the end I did forget to take my cell phone with me and returned to get it before continuing with the trip. I feel the same anxiety about leaving the house now as after the break-ins. Complete scatterbrain-mode. Despite the crime in our area reducing to nearly non-existent – although I have no idea about last week’s stats as our police station is temporarily closed because of Covid-19 – I am more paranoid than ever. I think its the health-threat manifesting in more familiar fears. The overall risk to one’s safety is huge on all kinds of levels right now, especially when you are a woman living alone. And all I can think of saying is: Fuck. (Which reminds me, I discovered a wonderful Twitter account last night, too: Swear Trek. Highly recommended when you can’t sleep and want to scream into the night.)
I wish I could wake up from the pandemic. I have lived through some dicey situations, but there was always a sense that it’s all going to turn out all right, somehow, in the end.
“It’s a mystery.”
(Shakespeare in Love)
Lester Kiewit asked on Twitter: “At what point in the last 57 days did you realise we are well and truly in the kak?” And my dear friend Debbie responded earlier today: “When the reality of Italy lockdown hit the news. My kak-meter hit the red level.” I remember that moment, too. And then it was just a matter of time…
Be kind to yourself. Be kind to others. Stay at home. Have a G&T.
“Physical distancing remains one of the key strategies to curb this pandemic.”
For J, J & S – missing you all!