REMEMBER LOCKDOWN?

I wrote this during the end of the COVID-19 lockdown and just found it saved in my drafts. It's not particularly well written but I think the memory of that crazy time is important.


LOCKDOWN

I know every inch of this home. It’s been over a year since the COVID lockdown and life is still weird. There’s a dirty spot on the white ceiling and it annoys me; I know every frayed spot on the old carpet. Even my garden wall is a piece of tapestry that I’ve seen a thousand times; there’s a chip in the plaster from a nail that couldn’t handle the weight of my hanging plant when we moved in 3 years ago.

My life is a slow ebb and flow; each day has four seasons and hundreds of moments. The hours are squares of different colours, sometimes translucent, sometimes bold, and they stack together to form a different shape and painting every day.

The morning is occupied by making a strong cup of coffee. Nowadays, I like my milk frothed: I heat up the milk in a mug in the microwave and then foam it using a small battery-operated frother. Adding a bit of sugar, I usually sit on the step that leads into our small garden.

We have a new neighbour in the complex that borders ours. She’s usually in the room facing our garden and watches me silently as I sit, in my robe or pajamas, sipping my coffee, trying to convince the dog to make a wee. I don’t really care what she thinks about my outfits or how I spend my time.

While I am still employed, on very reduced hours and very reduced pay, nothing that I do for the travel company feels like it matters. I’ve tried to find a new job and have had a few interviews but it's a competitive market out there. When I go into the office – I stare at people’s blank, worried and empty faces. Everyone is there because it’s their one day in the week that they have to be in the office. We’re all so sick of trying to be optimistic, yet we cling to any small piece of positive news. But soon it’s drowned out by more bad news, more infections, another red list, another restriction, another resignation.

In the afternoon I take the dog for a walk. And I always end up seeing the same people; I don’t really want to talk to any of them, so I choose routes that don’t have a lot of foot traffic – but still, I usually meet someone I know. Sometimes I nod, keep walking, other times I have to stop. We talk about the weather, or my job, or theirs, their child or my dog.

And then it's evening. I go to sleep. And another day rolls around.