Here we go again, another lockdown.
It’s the right thing to do, I don’t doubt that and I think it’s important to keep in mind why we’re doing it. But I feel so exhausted with the emotional whiplash of it all.
I’m so lucky and I don’t take that for granted, but I feel like this it must be so awful for people who aren’t able to see family or have green space nearby or who aren’t able to work from home.
This month, I’ll be spending my birthday in lockdown. We had to cancel plans but it’ll be ok. I think instead I’ll put Christmas decorations up earlier, eat pizza and have a Pitch Perfect marathon.
Mostly I just feel impatient. I have a real thing about never wanting to wish time away, but here I am, wishing things were sorted with my work, with our house, with this lockdown, with this pandemic, and ultimately wishing the time away for it to be over. Then there’s the guilt that comes from feeling ungrateful and unappreciative.
I don’t want to think like that though, or to let myself get into self-destructive loops. There are so many great things to come, and the lockdown doesn’t take away from how fortunate I am. So I guess we’ll all just keep going and showing thanks when we can.