OYSTERHOOD is reclusiveness or solitude, or an overwhelming desire to stay at home.
My lovely neighbours had to endure another burglary this week. Judging from the MO, probably the same thief as last time. With the beginning of the long voting weekend, I heard two sounds all day today: my neighbours’ attempts to turn their home into a fortress by introducing further security measures, and all around us alarms going off. I worked for most of the day in my bed, so it was impossible not to hear the sound effects of a neighbourhood in criminal distress. I have become so paranoid about safety now that it is no longer simple OCD behaviour … and yet, and yet. Home is home.
In the late afternoon, I went to have supper with my love – all healthy stuff after our pizza sinning last night. I returned home to do some more work – the latest round of edits on a manuscript has got me in head-scratching mode. A chronology issue needs to be resolved. But no solutions presented themselves today. Maybe one will appear in my dreams.
For quite a while now, I have been daydreaming of a bath, but could not find the time. My councillor advised that I do something special for myself every day, especially when everything is crazy. So, tonight, was bath time! And while I was in the bath, I watched some more Star Trek: Picard with my brother. (No worries: the laptop was positioned in such a way that my poor brother wasn’t exposed to my nakedness!)
In the episode we watched, there was an interesting take on what a promise is – a prison that we design for ourselves. Today, I agree. I broke a promise – not because I intended to, but because I simply ran out of time and ideas to complete a task. And I cannot escape the prison of guilt attached to the failure.
Be kind. Wear a mask. Support local. Get vaccinated, please.
“Physical distancing remains one of the key strategies to curb this pandemic.”