Photo by Steve Johnson on Unsplash
My brain’s got too much time on its hands (its cerebellum? brain stem?) while I’m busy doing nothing. Every second I’m not paying attention to it, it’s slowly cooking up some sort of campaign against me, hosted by my self-esteem to let me know we should break up. Some days it just suggests a couple of unhelpful ideas like starting a vigorous dental care routine to pass time at night. Other days it sets off a compilation of memories I had filed under no thank you in my mind a long time ago. It’s not like I get to choose it, but it is in my power to decide what to share with you. So here's another listicle in case Buzzfeed has run out:
Getting really into makeup (???)
I’ve been wearing the same jumper I also slept in yesterday night (I wear socks to bed too so either blame the high cost of heating or jail me for being a psycho) for three days now, but for some reason my brain has decided that it's my face that needs to look presentable. My boyfriend thinks it's because mastering the art of makeup requires a certain level of skill, and now it's time to practice before showing it to the outside world. As someone who stopped wearing winged eyeliner after half a year because I couldn't deal with the addition of stress in the morning, I believe his theory might actually be true. However, part of me also thinks that increasing my vanity is just the result of being bored of only seeing my own reflection every day. I've got more time than ever to study my face, the way it seems to change how it looks depending on how much sleep I've had, what I've eaten, or simply how happy I am. Maybe not being distracted by others and focusing so much on spending time with myself, only seeing myself, makes me more curious about myself too? Or perhaps it's just that all the Glossier ads have manufactured a desire in my subconscious to buy things I don't need. Introspection or capitalism? Yup, it's probably the latter.
Wanting to download Tinder again just to see who feels the urge to message me during self-isolation
My list of weekly reminders always includes online hangouts and telephone calls. If I don't actively spend time with my boyfriend, he's still available in some part of the flat for me to annoy him and demand attention and cuddles when I'm starting to feel lonely (I know, I give you permission to despise me). However, for some reason I haven't had enough therapy sessions to figure out yet, I've been having this strange urge to download Tinder despite no intention to actually use it. I guess I'm so deprived of the kind of social contact that requires commitment and desire to actually see me, that I believe a match with a sex-deprived, lonely singleton would make up for the lack of validation. Maybe this just goes back to quarantine making me more self-absorbed than before. Who knows, other than the deeper parts of my subconscious, which are clearly not cooperating with me?
Feeling bad about getting up late (for what exactly, I don’t know)
Even now that I'm not able to work since my bar had to close, and being off uni because it's Easter break, I still beat myself up for getting up late. It's not like I have a class to go to, or tons of stuff I'd like to do before going to work. Nevertheless it still bothers me that I'm not the early bird catching the worm. I guess now there are actually worms to catch in the shops while everyone is continuing to hoard food and toilet paper for the bunkers I'm sure they've started building. Regardless of that unnecessary addition to the dystopian novel we're living in, there's really not much else to get up early for. I love mornings, I really do. I love the way it feels like it could last forever. The way the sun hits every corner of my flat with the light of anticipated glory which stretches out over the rest of the day, ready for me to grab as the hours pass by. Anything feels possible. What I don't love about it anymore, is the false sense of accomplishment it gives me. I'm writing this at half 11 at night, knowing there's no glory waiting for me by the end of the day, but instead a two hour long YouTube spiral and new memes for me to check out on my Twitter feed. I might go to bed at 2 am again, or finish watching a Netflix special until 6 am because it was just that good (the title is Unbelievable, based on a true story.) What I want to feel is acceptance for whatever routine I'm maintaining during quarantine, because honestly, besides the guilt that I'm still feeling towards getting up late, it's actually been working for me. So this is a note to self: Time is irrelevant right now. Roll with however time flows for you.
Really wanting to start gardening and giving back to Mother Earth
Based on observations I've made online, I think my favourite outcome of quarantine content so far is that it's turned people into part-time hippies. Everyone's suddenly cooking with vegan pantry essentials such as chickpeas, beans, buckwheat and whatever vegetables they could scramble together from their last shopping trip. The next step, I noticed, is the baking phase. I myself am five days away from the birth of my sourdough starter baby, and have already made scones and focaccia (although yeast-free; I wasn't kidding when I said everyone is baking now). I've even looked up tutorials on how to master the art of croissant making. Maybe now's also the time to try hipster grain alternatives like quinoa and buckwheat?
All this could be just a general desire for self-sufficiency, as I’ve now entered my quarantine gardening stage too. I've got to admit that Joe Lycett's aka Hugo Boss' excellent Instagram story about gardening is partly to blame for that, but I find myself dreaming about seeing big, red tomatoes growing out of my tiny seed family. I fantasise about giving my chillies shitty Soundcloud rapper names like Lil Flame and Big Spice. I want to be able to talk to my onions so they grow strong enough to make me cry when they're mature enough for a curry dish. Maybe I'm just lonely.
Considering to download TikTok
I think it's time to give in and stop being the grandma that I am when it comes to social media culture. See you on the other side aka me under my bed sheets with bloodshot eyes at 5 am, watching quarantine TikToks for cultural relevance. I hope you're doing just as great too.