I feel like I have atrophied. I wake up and get dressed every day, but then time slips through my fingers and even watching a full length TV show takes too much energy.
I am entirely out of practice with being a normal human. This year my husband and I have spent 1 month in full quarantine (2 weeks in Lithuania, and then 2 weeks in the NZ managed isolation), 4 months in lockdown (which for me was leaving the house once a week for a constitutional), 2 months in Lithuanian lockdown (masks outside, no restaurants/museums open) and two months somewhere in between (working from home with the occasional restaurant visit). All of which to say, I need practice and patience to be around people again.
Because I am now in the mythical land of New Zealand. Where Corona cases are currently 0, concerts and cafes abound and you can hug family members. Imagine a Christmas where our only concern is which appetisers we should have, instead of ‘am I going to kill a vulnerable relative’, cause the health system to crash or how can I get through the festive season seeing no-one after a year of extreme isolation. New Zealand, even though I am here, still seems like this golden land that sailors have heard spoken about on the wind.
I am in Managed Isolation at the moment. Which means my husband and I are in a hotel room for two weeks with all our meals delivered to the door. We are allowed to leave the room if we want (in masks) to go on a supervised walk in the carpark, but 7 days in and we haven’t felt the need yet. We are experts at this now. Pre-2020 I would have gone mad in this room after a day, and I’m sure my husband and I would have killed each other. But now, we are kind and quiet and used to living an inside, secluded existence with only each other for company.
This year was always going to be a bold one for us, visa applications, saying goodbye to London, getting married & moving to the other side of the world. Throw a pandemic in the mix and it was… I actually don’t know what to call it. When we were in Lithuania I sat down to write a blog post about our wedding so I could relive the wonder that was that day, half way through it made me so upset that I stopped writing and haven’t started again until now.
There is so much within that joy that was complicated. It is hard to explain the wedding and the very very specific ways we did things, without reliving the sadness and stress of those few months. Fuck I hate the word stress now, it is insignificant and flippant for the feelings I have. I feel bruised by the storm of this year.
I will write about the wedding soon I promise, maybe I just won’t explain anything that went on behind the scenes & pretend that a socially distanced, Zoom wedding in a café was the plan from the beginning – an aesthetic choice maybe.
I am hopefully starting to see through the fog now, the fact I have enough motivation to write is a positive sign.