Warning - this post is more on the "mental health" than the "cooking" bit of this blog. Includes fretting, bitching and body image talk. Skip to the last para for the weekly update, because none of this is your issue.
Oof, I have hit another of those walls. They really smack you when you're not expecting, don't they? I think I'm just tired, and the bank holiday release has brought everything to the surface. But today it is definitely For The Best that I'm home alone for now. Eighth weekend in lockdown. No wonder I'm feeling frayed. I have a feeling I've got to chop an onion tomorrow too, gdi.
Zoom in particular is causing me angst. It's been such a lifesaver that now I take it for granted, and I've developed massive judgement against, for example, people who haven't twigged yet that only one person has the mike so if there's noise behind them we can't hear anyone else. (Has come up three times in 24 hours, once with a beloved untechy friend who is new to it and very forgiveable, but the other two with people whose Actual Job has depended on Zoom competence for seven weeks now, my god people can't you see everyone's blood pressure rising?)
The more people talk about lifting lockdown, the twitchier I get. Partly with people who are assuming we'll be back to normal shortly, when so, so obviously we won't. Remark of the week: "Let's hope this is the last bank holiday in lockdown." Yeah, no. I don't think this is all going to be sorted in a fortnight. I've just cancelled two more trips, with no expectation that I'll look back and see those as missed opportunities. I know why people want this to be over, but it really isn't. But it's not all that cheering chatting with Sensible People, because when I say something like "Some form of this is our reality now, for the foreseeable, isn't it?" they just nod gloomily.
Mostly I think I'm just really overscheduled. All my plans for lockdown, including cookery, assumed I'd run out of work and have time to get bored. But I'm working longer hours than ever (travel excepted); both jobs are in busy phases at the moment; and keeping my folks in food and cheer still takes energy. For the first time this week I've cancelled yoga classes, and tonight I didn't commit to one that I started. I kept my camera off, started randomly crying about not!yoga during meditation and silently walked out halfway. Extremely not like me. It's partly that my always-fretting brain has started obsessing about the cruelty of seeing yourself on Zoom throughout. I have never been in good enough shape to want to see myself in the middle of class; lockdown and wine and cheese isn't helping that any, but I'm damned if I'm going to diet at this point. And it's getting tough not to think about this in class. And breathe, and let go, and DEAR GOD LOOK AT THAT SPARE SPARE TYRE. But also, you know, it's eight weekends since I was last in a room with someone except on Zoom screens, so it's possible that's having some kind of subtle effect.
HOWEVER. I have local winebar wine, I have British cheese aplenty for the simplest of holiday indulgences. We've had a lovely active week on this blog, with our first Elsewhere Kitchen posts stirring all kinds of memories, and first signs of #CKAmnesty showing what you didn't manage to post here (a helpful and memorial thread from Stef here on a mince pie for the beach). Salmon, curry, a disastrously cursed sauce, more oddments and food week posts giving brilliant overviews of activity. Pizza promises, heretical pasta, analytical risotto posting, fish dishes, and a lemon posset that I will make again in a heartbeat. You guys are sanity savers tbh. Thank you.
Cocktails at seven tomorrow, if you're around. That's one thing in my schedule I shall not be ghosting.
Oof, I have hit another of those walls. They really smack you when you're not expecting, don't they? I think I'm just tired, and the bank holiday release has brought everything to the surface. But today it is definitely For The Best that I'm home alone for now. Eighth weekend in lockdown. No wonder I'm feeling frayed. I have a feeling I've got to chop an onion tomorrow too, gdi.
Zoom in particular is causing me angst. It's been such a lifesaver that now I take it for granted, and I've developed massive judgement against, for example, people who haven't twigged yet that only one person has the mike so if there's noise behind them we can't hear anyone else. (Has come up three times in 24 hours, once with a beloved untechy friend who is new to it and very forgiveable, but the other two with people whose Actual Job has depended on Zoom competence for seven weeks now, my god people can't you see everyone's blood pressure rising?)
The more people talk about lifting lockdown, the twitchier I get. Partly with people who are assuming we'll be back to normal shortly, when so, so obviously we won't. Remark of the week: "Let's hope this is the last bank holiday in lockdown." Yeah, no. I don't think this is all going to be sorted in a fortnight. I've just cancelled two more trips, with no expectation that I'll look back and see those as missed opportunities. I know why people want this to be over, but it really isn't. But it's not all that cheering chatting with Sensible People, because when I say something like "Some form of this is our reality now, for the foreseeable, isn't it?" they just nod gloomily.
Mostly I think I'm just really overscheduled. All my plans for lockdown, including cookery, assumed I'd run out of work and have time to get bored. But I'm working longer hours than ever (travel excepted); both jobs are in busy phases at the moment; and keeping my folks in food and cheer still takes energy. For the first time this week I've cancelled yoga classes, and tonight I didn't commit to one that I started. I kept my camera off, started randomly crying about not!yoga during meditation and silently walked out halfway. Extremely not like me. It's partly that my always-fretting brain has started obsessing about the cruelty of seeing yourself on Zoom throughout. I have never been in good enough shape to want to see myself in the middle of class; lockdown and wine and cheese isn't helping that any, but I'm damned if I'm going to diet at this point. And it's getting tough not to think about this in class. And breathe, and let go, and DEAR GOD LOOK AT THAT SPARE SPARE TYRE. But also, you know, it's eight weekends since I was last in a room with someone except on Zoom screens, so it's possible that's having some kind of subtle effect.
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| Intensely consoling support for local industry |
HOWEVER. I have local winebar wine, I have British cheese aplenty for the simplest of holiday indulgences. We've had a lovely active week on this blog, with our first Elsewhere Kitchen posts stirring all kinds of memories, and first signs of #CKAmnesty showing what you didn't manage to post here (a helpful and memorial thread from Stef here on a mince pie for the beach). Salmon, curry, a disastrously cursed sauce, more oddments and food week posts giving brilliant overviews of activity. Pizza promises, heretical pasta, analytical risotto posting, fish dishes, and a lemon posset that I will make again in a heartbeat. You guys are sanity savers tbh. Thank you.
Cocktails at seven tomorrow, if you're around. That's one thing in my schedule I shall not be ghosting.
Just, hugs. So much of this I can identify with. Not least the ridiculous amount of flexitime I've building up entirely against my will... XX
ReplyDeleteYeah. I wish we still had flexitime. Is suspended for the duration, which I assumed was going to be a kind thing to do. I think it may get quieter now, but we'll see, I have been wrong about that several times already.
DeleteTake care during your own fun brain time. I believe there's a shortage of reserve brains for use in emergency at present.
Hugs. Not working is tedious but I think I'm some ways easier. The impact of continually seeing yourself on camera thing is definitely real, it just doesn't happen normally so we don't know how to respond xx
ReplyDeleteNone of this is easy, though - basically any option has massive downsides. I'm glad to be working most of the time, and the work feels urgent, but I am knackered. And perhaps I didn't need quite this much yoga... (and the images thing is so real - face is bearable, but body is Ungood).
DeleteMuch of this feels horribly familiar. Especially today when there are so many reports of idiots breaking lockdown already, which just means this will go on for even longer. Sigh. Deep breaths and possibly even deeper glasses of wine.
ReplyDeleteYes. It's going to take so little for London to feel dangerous again, like at the start of lockdown. I've never felt vulnerable in a city like this, but you can't fight this invisible scary thing. And for you it's all about just staying inside, for however long it takes, which is so hard in different ways.
DeleteUgh. Wine. Life has definitely looked up since I got on the mailing list of the local wine bar. They call this one "big, decadent, spicy red" and it's working wonders.
My love, wish there was something useful I could say. Beyond 'you are one of the best bits of my lockdown and huge massive hugs to you'. Or manly punch on the shoulder if the former makes you snivel.
ReplyDeleteEh, everything makes me snivel at the moment. Midweek was fine, tomorrow will probably be fine. But taking stuff a bit more easily is a thing I can do, ridiculous though it sounds in this nothing-happening world.
DeleteAu contraire, makes perfect sense. I am starting to understand why, eg, my grandad was at the Post Office when it opened every Thursday despite having ALL DAY to go.
DeleteJoining in the group hug. Sorry it's been such a crappy week my dear. And sorry I've not been around much either. I've been doing a lot of mindlessly staring at You Tube instead of doing the things I had planned. We are starting to open up a little bit again, but I'm also worried that people will take it as carte blanche when it really, really isn't, and then the whole thing will go on even further.
ReplyDeleteHugs you hard.
Thank you. If you'd told me six weeks ago I'd be reluctant about leaving lockdown, I'd never have believed it. But it's been easy to hunker down and obsess about the dangers, hasn't it? I guess we have to get out sometime though.
DeleteSorry to hear its been a crappy week. I hope it may be some consolation to know that this blog and the SM that has sprung up around it is a real help for lots of us on the tougher days, providing inspiration, community and solidarity
ReplyDeleteAlso excellent reading content for the early morning Aldi queue...
DeleteThank you. It does help - it certainly helps me, and I'm glad it's wider than that. Especially when queuing for supermarkets is our greatest novelty and outing.
DeleteHugs, and hard agree on lots of this (online meeting rage, brain melt, occasional but regular waves of panic, knowing you need to exercise but wanting to curl up and eat cheese instead and the knowledge that this is going to be a long haul). Anyway, I have loved this blog - sanity saving and somewhere I can spend a quiet moment thinking about something (anything) else - so massive thanks for that.
ReplyDeleteThank you! I'm so glad it's helping other people. It's such a massive relief to know this is a shared experience, with some laughter along the way.
DeleteHugs also from Italy. It was tre crappier week of all weeks of lockdown for me too and I really understand your feelings. Here it’s the first week of slow breaking lockdown but rather than being happy and free, I’m full of fears and anxieties. I would see and hug my family and my friends but I can’t cause a voice in me says “It’s too dangerous even now”. I haven’t cooked a lot and maybe for first time in quarantine I’ll waste something is in fridge (so sad!). Moreover Sorriso is admitted to vet to be checked. A little note of positivity: first dinner with my brothers and sister-in-laws in months!
ReplyDeleteAnd after all we can wait the rain because “there’s who waits for rain not to cry all alone” as said in a famous song of one of the greatest Italian singer Fabrizio De Andrè, song “Il bombarolo” (search it and listen to all lp).
Or we can cook here all together in a cathartic and liberating crying.
Oh, I'm sorry you've had a bad week too (and I hope Sorriso is okay, too). But it's really good you're getting out a little bit, even if it's difficult. And yes, together is a very powerful thing, when it would be so easy to feel alone at the moment.
DeleteVideo calls and the horror of seeing myself aren't getting better as time goes on, so I have a lot of sympathy on that front. I made the error of taping a bit of my kickboxing class to check my technique, definitely a very, very poor decision.
ReplyDeleteI can't visualise how things will go back to normal and am torn between worrying about everyday trains and wondering how irresponsible it would be to get on a plane to go to my friend's wedding in the Western Isles in July. Assuming that even happens. I think the uncertainty is one of the worst aspects, I just hate not knowing.
OH NO, no taping. Ever.
DeleteI'm much more obsessed with the daily commute risks than I am worried about longer travel (I have validation visits that are overdue!). Strange how brains work. But the uncertainty is definitely the weirdest part. I had a friend whose daughter's wedding should have been 18 March. You could see the stress rising and rising till at least they *knew* it wasn't possible any more. And then you can move on a bit. But sometimes it's not that clear-cut at present.