Testing, testing, 1,2,3......

It has been 7 weeks.  7 whole weeks of working full time, I lost my Friday day off and now I am well and truly in the rat run. I remember it well from the last time I was full time, the all-consuming nature of this job makes, at least for me, pursuing other interests so difficult. I am almost nostalgic for the first lockdown (if I could step aside from the fear and anxiety it induced); when I could just concentrate on having all that precious time to do the things that I dreamed about doing whilst doing my all-consuming job. Those things that I dreamed about pre- lockdown are the same things that I try to find time to do now: write and be slightly more creative than I am in my job. It is funny how, over the years, dreams have whittled themselves down to be so simple.

My lockdown journals were effortless to write, it was as if the combination of time, anxiety and (blessed as I was) financial security made stars come into alignment and the subjects fell at my feet- thick and fast. There was (hardly ever) a shred of self-consciousness as I claimed mundane subjects for my own, and tens of sentences came together to form some sort of project.  As yet, I haven’t revisited  what I thought or portrayed, but I am still left with an immense feeling of satisfaction, that on the whole, I made a creative routine that I stuck to and in some part other people were in on that satisfaction.  I am currently trying to wade through my latest batch of disappointments: a little while ago, I began a creative writing project with a friend and the demons came out to play, no doubt, in full force. Unfortunately, I let them win and stopped writing. I hope my writing buddy reads this and knows it was never him, always me and if I can just break this barrier one, more, fucking time… it may just be able to pick up the mantel again.  

I am in the very fortunate position to be bored to the back teeth of Covid, and probably will avoid that as a subject. I am fully aware of this as a privileged position and I know it may well pop up to affect my life again but for now I feel I want to leave my opinions about it all strictly in the private place where many opinions are best kept. I will venture this, no opinion has been as upsetting as the vitriol and division humans have been prepared to endure over someone else’s point of view. And there we are-back full circle from childhood to my perceived freedom, back to knowing that our opinions are worth more to us than humanity itself.  Yes, I do understand the humour in that previous statement from a person who is basically trying to reignite a blog journal which is in essence, opinion based.

The loose plan is to write every Sunday, I hope I rediscover my love and humour and ability to string more than sentence together. It may even get a bit bogged down in my job; the teacher humour (if we have any) may see an outing, after all said and done that is what I do mostly.  I am also a parent, and whilst I have never been that comfortable with that as a subject, it is also what I mostly do and I think my children make some interesting, if not humorous points. But above everything, I want to write again. In doing so, I want to rediscover the closest thing I have ever found to being satisfied, the most relaxed and the most ‘me’. I think you know, dear reader, by this output I am using you as a sounding post, a tentative ‘testing, testing, 1,2,3…. I am hoping this is the beginning of another little adventure and I am happy to share a coffee or two with you, along the way.

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