So, needless to say, the quarantine has really affected my life. Not as much as some, and financially I’m okay (sort of), but boy howdy this is not where I thought I’d be a few months ago.
I’m back in Sonora, which is a little rough. I was getting really comfortable in SF and now I’m back in this awful podunk town. I keep trying to tell myself that the few interactions I have here are good research for future stories, but it’s hard to get over the mental hump of being here in the first place.
I started the year thinking I was going to be moving to LA and also submitting to a bunch of different competitions.
Instead I’m in Sonora, and I’ve got less than a week for my two top competitions final deadlines, and haven’t written anything. (or rather, I’ve written pages and pages, and then trashed them because they weren’t working).
It’s tough. But here I am still.
I’m so tired of the inane “this is the time to finish that big project” messages that are getting churned out at a time like this. Sure, some of us have more time, but it’s not like a vacation, it’s not the same as spending a day home from work. Even if we’re all just overreacting and this all blows over, you cannot deny that this is a hard place to be mentally. How do you finish anything when the world is falling apart? Why should you finish anything when the world is falling apart.
I’m not getting as much work done, but I’m not going to make myself feel guilty about it (more than usual at least; do not underestimate my catholic upbringing and anxiety to key up any feelings of guilt, warranted or not).
I’m not getting work done because I’m worried. I’m not getting work done because I’m trying to plan ahead in a world of innumerable uncertainties. I’m not getting work done because I’m with my family and they’re a simultaneously source of comfort and extreme tension.
Wash your hands. Stop panicking every time you feel a tickle in your throat (that’s mainly for me). Good luck everyone.