OYSTERHOOD is reclusiveness or solitude, or an overwhelming desire to stay at home.
It might be a midlife crisis! All this strange heaviness and the questioning of everything. Statistically, as a woman, I should have had one at forty-two, but there were no real indications of one back then. Maybe this it IT, now, at forty-four? Why not? If I don’t get a boob-job or buy a Harley – just figure out the meaning of life all anew (as one does, right?) – then the temporary suffering might be worth it.
My love and I had breakfast at the Hoghouse today and so the day began (despite loadshedding in the morning) on a positive note and continued like that: things got done. I had one extremely constructive professional meeting and just ploughed through the tasks that need to be completed before the Big Rest. Today is the first day that I could actually feel my two remaining big commitments for this month coming to an end soon and I could imagine the holiday ahead, and the joy of letting go of all this work-related anxiety. A few more days, if all goes well …
I will spend the evening ironing in front of the TV and go to bed with my cheeks less sore than they have been for the last few days. There’s hope.
Be kind. Wear a mask. Support local.
“Physical distancing remains one of the key strategies to curb this pandemic.”