What’s the point?
Some days are better than others. Conversely, some are worse. Yesterday was a particularly bad one for me, and today is only slightly better. I am at the beginning of a ten-day vacation – or more accurately a “staycation” since there’s nowhere to go and nothing to do.
I should be feeling great about some time to just focus on myself and not worry about work. Not so fast. At 4:30 p.m. the day before the beginning of what is laughingly called a vacation, my supervisor called to tell me I need to create an important document that he absolutely must have on Tuesday. Oh, lucky me. I get to work on a tedious work-related project over the Memorial Day weekend while I am supposed to be on vacation.
The nature of the project is all about plans for coming back to work. I found myself, while trying to work on it, asking myself, “What’s the point?” I mean, if we are all going to eventually get furloughed or – worse – deemed as non-essential and let go – then what’s the point of spending endless hours creating plans for a phased re-entry?
Why waste my time coming up with detailed and highly-specific plans for how to welcome audiences back into my theater if my workplace is just going to eventually tell me to cancel everything and hand me a pink slip? I realize this is only one possibility, but in my current depressive state my negativity bias is strong and I have spiraled into the worst case scenario.
Add that to all of the other issues of navigating this bizarre world, and it’s a poisonous cocktail of negativity and gloom.
I generally try to find opportunity in crisis. I work hard to find ways to remain grateful in the midst of difficult times. I am sure I will find my way out of this, but for today I am miserable, lonely, and feeling rather helpless.
Just to add insult to injury, here’s a charming truth about being a single person quarantining alone. The suburbs are finally opening up a little. Restaurants can start having outdoor seating as soon as next Friday. My first thought was, “Yay! I am so happy.” Then I went online and tried to make a reservation.
Nope.
No tables for one. On one level, I understand that they need to monetize the minimal space they have, so why waste a two-top on a single diner? I get that logically, but emotionally it feels like a huge slap in the face. Once again, I feel like I am being punished because I am single. So after 10 weeks of utter isolation, things are opening up, and I get to stay home and watch others have a great time while I am miserable and lonely.
Yes, I realize that this post is depressing and most people will stop reading before they even get this far. Too bad. I promised to be open, raw, and honest and today kind of sucks. That’s an honest statement.
Will I survive? Of course. Am I suicidal? Of course not. Am I lonely? Absolutely. Do I have hope? Only a tiny glimmer, but at least there’s a glimmer.
So today, the isolation is not sparkling at all. Today it is dull and depressing.
It’s only Quarantine if it comes from the Quarante province of France. Otherwise, it’s just Sparkling Isolation.