Was there a life before this one? One where you could do everything, where everything was supposed to be normal? A life before the “current situation”?
If there was, it feels so far away that there is a long time, a life of its own, in between. At least 10 years, that’s how it feels. So that you only poke your thoughts in a fog of memory that was believed to be true, accompanied by the constant fearful guess as to what this “new normality” will be of which everyone is always talking about.
Indignation and irritation dominate my everyday life
Some people write that in this situation you become more and more yourself. Not only am I poor in memory, I’m also easier to annoy. Maybe amnesia and hot temper correspond to my real self, I hope strongly against it. What irritates others outrages me with a force I don’t know about myself.
How can we make it possible to bring 80,000 harvest helpers into the country so that the crappy asparagus doesn’t rot, but 50 refugee children overwhelm us?
How can it be that an institution, after its careful analysis in 2016, 1300 of our 1600 hospitals were identified as more or less superfluous, can now make recommendations in which steps opening perspectives can be implemented?
How can it be that the measure of all things is the number of new infections if the actually limited resource should only worry about the number of new serious illnesses? How can it be that we destroy our economy and psyche so much that after all of this we lead a life that may be minimally safe in terms of health, but is socially supposedly disastrous?
How can it be that these idiots still don’t stick to the crappy 1.5 meter safety distance and squeeze past me as if all this had nothing to do with them? How can it be that there is a party in the house across the street and I am seriously considering getting the police to denounce my dear party neighbors?
How can it be that my parents, over 60, visit us unannounced for Easter and force their hugs on us, just as if they didn’t understand all of this?
The basics of a functioning life are in place, but existence still feels very circumcised
I know that I lie awake at night because nothing is exhausting me anymore. For example, I’m not as exhausted as parents who have their children at home. Children have to be busy, otherwise they will escalate, otherwise the air will burn, that’s what I can imagine.
I know that the social is a muscle that, especially with me, slackens quickly. I have voice messages on my cell phone that are 3 weeks old that I have not been able to listen to to date. I’ve never been a big phone operator, a fact that inevitably catches up with me now.
I know that we have the basics of a functioning life: electricity, sewerage, internet, food supply – and yet our existence feels adequately cut.
Series binge watching, online shopping and drinks from 4 p.m. prevent you from freaking out.
I know I’m just not freaking out because I numb myself with at least eight episodes of a series every day, because I shop online every day, because I make my first drink every day at 4 p.m. at the latest, and because we have a dog in two weeks Obtain. The prospect of daily parcel deliveries and a puppy appeased everyone.
“What would you do if you went crazy? You don’t have that much left. ”“ Maybe I would start an argument with you, out of boredom, simply because I can do it? ”Even if I know that it would be pretty assy in terms of relationship. And not particularly smart.
I know that you should structure the day, that’s what all experts tell you. But no one buckles that there is no work and structure, that it is just a matter of how, no matter how, to spend the time, to spend the day without freaking out because of the stupidity of the whole.
Before another day comes, which is exactly like this, and then another and another and another until sometime, where we can not see yet. Up to this “new normal” that everyone is always talking about.