Busy Doing Nothing

Hello, dear readers!

And welcome to the blog that very nearly didn’t happen.

Not because I didn’t want it to you understand, and not because of any time constraints or unexpected events overtaking me. No, in fact it’s more or less the opposite. Nothing, you see, has happened.

There have been no moments of personal crisis. No tidings, glad or otherwise. No hatches, matches, dispatches. No birthdays or anniversaries to forget. In fact this week, perhaps more than any since lockdown commenced, has been a total blank.

And perversely enough, that’s what today’s blog is all about.


The Old Routine
It’s something I touched upon in a post a couple of weeks back. (This one, in fact.) The need for structure in one’s life. The need for routine, however humdrum that may seem. It’s something we all have, or at least had, in our lives, and for a lot of us, it’s something that’s gone missing.

I’m not so much talking about the minutiae of the day, at least not personally. Having been a jobless drain on the national economy for some three years now, my day to day, uh... day hasn’t really changed all that much.

Breakfast Time
I still wake at a reasonable hour, prepare myself some breakfast, and more importantly a cafetiere of coffee, eat the food, feed the animals, and drink the coffee. Then the day starts.

I may shoot some aliens on the Xbox, browse social media, try my hand at some writing or editing. I may even go completely crazy and read a book for an hour or two. (I know, slow down that crazy train, right?) Lunch will then be taken, and the afternoon embarked on. Apart from a spot of dog walking, and the seemingly habitual way the hours of two til five seem to merge together into one five-minute period, this won’t differ too much from the morning. It really is a scream- if -you-want-to-go-faster rollercoaster ride kind of a life. I’m only surprised I have the energy for it.

The Day Today
That would be a quiet day of course, but all days seem to be quiet at the moment. There’s a ‘sameyness’ to them, a carbon copy, factory fitted uniformity which can make it a little tricky to remember whether it’s Tuesday, Thursday, or next Wednesday. Little reminders, Final Score on a Saturday, taking my wife, Tina (Thank you for the blog title by the way, Tina.),  to church on a Sunday morning, Slimming world on a Thursday eve; all have gone (for now).

It makes it all the more important to hold on to the structure we do have in our lives. For instance, Sunday, for me, is blog day. The day I desperately try to cobble together some last minute thoughts and put them into words without misspelling too many and having a jolly good go at the punctuation thing at the same time. (I think I’m getting a little better at the latter. I’m at least reasonably sure one or more commas are in the right place this week, which is nice.)

Donald?
What else is there though, what other structure can I impose on my week to differentiate the dizzying days? A standing (or sitting), date with the aforementioned wife, perhaps? A regular virtual meet up with family or friends so I don’t forget what they look like? A day put aside for learning a new skill, or taking up a new hobby? Trouserless Tuesday? No?

It will take a little thought, and hardly any effort, but I think, as lockdown continues it will do wonders for the mental health of all concerned.

Tomorrow, after all, is a different day.