This is Day 12 of Camp Corona. Part of me is disappointed that I haven’t already written 672 books by now. My productivity tends to come to a grinding halt when my focus needs to be a project that I’m not exuberantly passionate about. Which isn’t saying that it won’t be a good book, or that I’m not giving it my all. It’s more like being given a bowl of premium chocolate ice cream when you’re really in the mood for a simple slice of apple pie and a cup of coffee. The right itch isn’t being scratched.
The sun is shining, most of the snow has melted, and the birds are coming back. My plan for this week is to listen to nothing but ambient music, like the vast and deep catalog of Sovietwave on YouTube and the new Nine Inch Nails albums, and write. It’s the only way to get through the stuff that I’m doing because it will sell well, and get on to the passion projects.
Sports and Weather
Once per day I will look my concise list of information sources, which is starting to feel like checking sportsball scores. “Oh, the death toll in Italy has reached that high? Hmm, the U.S. has how many new cases?” Which only sounds morbid because it is. Maybe it’s more like checking the weather. “Any new infections in my district? No? Hmm, maybe I should make one more trip to the grocery store before the outbreak hits.”
I’m checking Twitter once a day to touch base with friends. I already have these daily journal posts, which are syndicated to social media, as proof of life on my part. The idea is to not just limit my exposure to the virus to protect my physical health, but to also minimize my exposure to stupid as a safeguard for my mental health.
My biggest conundrum at the moment is whether to do laundry tomorrow. If we don’t have that much and I can wait a week, I will. It’s only a short walk to the building next door, but why risk it? Last month I got a mild respiratory infection because of the cat litter smell in the hallway; if my neighbors are that unhygienic, why risk the plague? When I did laundry last week I wore gloves to open the doors, and scrubbed down the handles and buttons of the washer and dryer with wet wipes. It felt silly and paranoid at the time. Increasingly, I wonder if I’m being paranoid (i.e. aggressively cautious) enough.
A Simple Slice of Apple Pie
What I’m enjoying — okay, enjoying sounds wrong given the current circumstances, so how about appreciating — is that at things become perforce more reductive, more people are starting to realize what actually matters. Decisions need to be made and priorities evaluated. It becomes clear how much unnecessary crap takes up out time, energy, and resources. The selfish people are standing out for the assholes they truly are. I hold out hope that society, and humanity, come through this better off than we were before.