I wake up every morning thinking, today will be a good day. The coffee is good, I see my morning person husband dancing around, smiling at me – he truly is a wonderful human, but that personality in the morning – wow – too much for my brain to handle.
Anyway, I have no idea anymore what my goal in life is or who I want to be, everything is changing, and I am stuck. Stuck at home. Stuck in this Covid life. Never had I ever thought of wearing a mask every single day. At least not in the literal sense. I am not even one for scarfs, nor a lot of jewellery.
We all like jewellery, yes, but we also like taking it off some time during the day. My frustration with this new accessory is that it does not match any of my shoes.
Of course hubby dearest darling angel, being him, thinks it looks fab and “who looks at your shoes anyway”. Bless him and his childlike optimism.
So back to this Covid thing, which when you thought juggling motherhood with working-class woman and making it look good while you’re at it was tough enough, managed to up the ante a little. You know, just to make things colourful.
You have the stress of finances, health, kids, regulations, are we like, even allowed to say “hello” to someone in a grocery store? Yes, well how will they know it was me saying hello as they cannot see my mouth! Urgh!
Violence is huge a concern, it is quite freighting to look over your shoulder wherever you go, double checking if everything is locked and hidden and not wanting to drive around with my family. You must make sure you have the pepper-spray ready; your phone is unlocked (yet out of sight but not out of reach) ready to speed-dial. I feel so sorry for mankind, this is not a free and happy life, this is a puppet show.
Stress is a silent terrorist. It is inevitable. It is how you handle it that is important. There are so many ways of dealing and treating it. TRE, therapy, exercise, yoga, massages, baking, eating – joking, don’t overdo it – meditation, hypnotherapy, cleaning, throwing stuff at the wall (not at someone), listening to music, drinking a bottle of wine, writing a book, a lengthy positive phone call, whatever tickles your fantasy. Try all of it and find your go-to method. Then, have a glass of wine. Or a placebo such as noon-fermented grape juice.
Work – well ain’t that just another beast all together? Used to be a genuinely easy little tick off the old “to-do list” every afternoon. You know, it was that thing that ended the moment the handbag clanked down on the counter and you felt that familiar relief as the hook released and you felt that bra strap snap off.
According to some organisations, I am not allowed to see clients or work at full pace and if I am allowed to see my clients, who are obviously in a different industry, their regulations say I am not allowed to.
I do not like it. And month end comes, debit order time, for the life of me I hope everything goes through. Ping ping ping, I leave it for an hour, once the unbarring sound stops, I just glance at the last message to see if all is still positive (but not too positive because, you know, Covid).
I go to bed tired and wake up feeling tired. Yes, yes – I know, I need vitamins, exercise and a good diet. I do not have the energy necessary to workout at home. And quite frankly, with everything else going on in this space, don’t really have the motivation to. And no, I will not wake up at 5am – it’s too damn cold, and apparently according to hubby-dearest, too early for wine. He says even Gin.
I have this uneasy feeling about putting on weight. I do like fitting into my jeggings, but now I am thinking of other alternatives to not put on weight. Like, drinking green tea to help cleanse, eating healthier – eating healthy is ridiculously expensive! Will this diet still work if I only eat half the portion because I cannot afford to eat this amount of fresh fish, nuts, high in fibre and protein, gluten and lactose free products?
Laughs. I doubt it, I will pass thank you for making me feel worse about myself.
I don’t know about you ladies, but I have this voice in my head forever telling me that I am not doing enough or am not good enough. I get myself pondering on everything I have done in that day and I think, “screw you little voice, I’m alive, dressed and have friggin make up on!” I managed to get out of bed, I mean come on!
My children are alive (thankfully) and my husband is on a roll every day. I have spent time with the kids, I endured a 15-minute potty break trying to understand how superheroes, cars and crocodiles are crucial to the task at hand. I have done some work, checked the load shedding schedule to make sure I can prepare for that disaster, remembered my mask before I went to the shop and I only used enough water to clean the bits.
I have checked in with all the WhatsApp and Telegram “groepies” to ensure no important school messages were missed and heaven forbid we get another invitation to join another groepie because I’m all groepied out.
So I feel accomplished.
And here’s why you should too. Take a step back and think to yourself “I did not lose my sh!t more than usual, I did not reply to a stupid comment on Facebook or point it out. I complimented someone and just gave him the look after a snarky remark form the dearest husband on my shoes or hair or my idea for dinner and walked away, to avoid the war he will lose (again).”
According to me ladies, you are all doing a fabulous job!
You are enough.
You need to take more time to focus on your needs to make sure you are fine. You are more important than you think.
We all have our own way of coping with this new life that was forced upon us. In our previous life, I woke up early to go to the gym for a bit of happy hormones to be released. I enjoyed a glass of wine in the evening while cooking and talking about the day. Having a laugh about the issues and highlights. And of course, the social media entertainment I would stumble across while having a smoke break.
I enjoy reflecting on the previous life, it teaches me how to be grateful now and adore every single freedom I still have. Like wine, jeez, I was upset when the ban was reinstated! The lockdown is harsh, and it has the capacity to change you. You, however, get to decide in which way.
I guess my question I put to you is simply; who will you be when all of this is over? Let me know. Let’s chat. See you on one of the groepies or perhaps in the Facebook comments, if we’re fortunate, maybe in line at Checkers where the wine isle used to be.