Isolation Week 2: Report From An Extrovert

Hey Tint Fam, today’s blog post is from Team LT’s Lex, who is reporting back after another full week of quarantine! Keep reading to find out what she has to say...


 

 

The collective “we” have officially finished two weeks of social isolation. I’ve experienced, I assume much like the majority of us, a very full range of thoughts and emotions. I’ll admit that I haven’t resumed my workout routine, my eating habits are better some days than others (I polished off a full bag of doritos whilst binging Curb Your Enthusiasm), and navigating how to stay in touch with people when I simply don’t want to talk has been a challenge.

I began the week by attempting to separate myself from professional productivity by finishing an Areaware puzzle. Only, I could hear the proverbial second-hand (does anyone own a “real” clock anymore?) ticking away as I pieced it together. On the contrary, the sense of accomplishment was rewarding in a way that was different than fulfilling an obligation, personal or professional. This only reinforces my earlier epiphany about the necessity to decelerate right now -- it’s still a challenge, but I’m trying.

 

 

While I’m on the green grass, I’ll note that the lack of my daily commute to the office allows me another hour for a “hearty breakfast”. There’s something to be said (and it has been said) about taking one’s time to eat sans distractions of “normal” life. What a concept: feeding your body feels pretty great!

 


In the vein of self-care, why doesn’t anyone talk about how luxurious owning a desk is? No one tells you that the best part is all the miscellaneous electronics and “important papers” you’re required to have as an adult, finally find a home inside said desk’s drawers. How did I forget this notion after primary school? Remember when you had assigned desks and your textbooks would go inside? My teacher used my desk as an example for how others should organize theirs -- it truly was a work of art, if I do say so myself. I digress.  After years of working from my dining table and mostly slouching over my computer in bed, I finally acquired a chubby little mid-century desk. I’ve also discovered that the psychology of working exclusively from a desk has aided in my development of a more structured routine: I’m able to sequester areas in my home exclusively for food, sleep, and socializing (right now that means talking to my cats). Please disregard the avocado toast in the photo. The desk is aiding in my development -- I didn’t claim it could perform miracles. What I’m getting at is desk ownership is one of the finer things in life, folks. 


 

While most cats aren’t fond of the homosapien species, I’d like to believe James and Lisa have rather enjoyed the increasing company. I sure have enjoyed theirs. When the pandemonium begins to set the upper region of my back muscles on fire, I look at them -- they often look like the above. The entire world is living in uncertainty for an indefinite period of time and these beautiful creatures are none the wiser. To be a fat house cat. . . 

 


 

Now that I’ve migrated to the green turf on my patio, I’ll note again that the current circumstance, scary as it may be, has gifted me with more time -- I’ve mostly been using this time to try my hand at the culinary craft. Here, you’ll note I made mashed potatoes. Take heed, these are not instant mashed potatoes, people -- they are, in fact, real potatoes: peeled, boiled and mashed. We also indulged in some Beyond Meat “sausages” accompanied by fresh green beans. A comfort meal that transports me back to my Grandad’s porch in Kentucky (please read this in a Southern accent for maximum effect). 

 

 

Strawberry shortcakes are the symbol of true blue leisure to me: my mom would make them in the Florida summer, when school was out and we’d run through the front yard sprinklers; the strawberries are so sweet, they’re a dessert themselves. If I were a betting woman, I’d put a hefty chunk toward the assertion that there are very few things a strawberry shortcake can’t fix. 

I’ll leave you tied up in this pretty bow: Joyce Carol Oates explains, “Constant disruptions are the destruction of imagination.” I’ve been battling with how to feel right now -- I’m guilty if I eat zebra cakes and sing along with Joe Exotic and equally guilty when I add bullets to my To-Do list. I think that’s the story of life in general -- navigating which season we’re participating in as individuals and then acting accordingly, without the obligation to fulfill someone else’s narrative of how to feel. Maybe right now is the time for you to “get to work”. All the same, it could simultaneously be your time to eat zebra cakes and sing along with Joe Exotic. Lean into the circumstance, remembering “productivity” isn’t monolithic. If you’re able to, take this time of reprieve to give your imagination the license to desert logic. What is your ultimate desire today? Because that’s all we really have right now -- today. 

- Lex



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