I woke up this morning feeling a bit scruffy and thought to myself, well it's been a good week since I shaved. Look in the mirror and realized I look like Sasquatch's slightly furrier cousin. Wow. Time has gotten away from me lately. Or, to phrase it more correctly, Time has become completely meaningless.
Here in Michigan we're on week 9 of our lock down. I'm not getting into politics of it because we're in uncharted territory and it is what it is. I'm a good boy and try to do my part.
It's like the world ended on Saint Patrick's Day, though. Even the weather feels pretty much like it did in mid March. Spring has yet to arrive here. It's all coming together to create the perfect illusion that time has actually stopped. After I realized that it's now mid May I had to double check all of my bills to make sure I hadn't let anything lapse in recent weeks.
I also realized exactly how far behind I am on my writing. I wanted to be in edits by the beginning of June. Not going to happen. I'm about 25% of the way through draft 2 and can't imagine that I will be finished with this draft until July. So, my plan is to have this book finished by October now. I'm not going to rush it.
Could I even tell if I am rushing it? It feels like I have lost the ability to measure any kind of progress in my life. It's a bit like being a kid again. Every day felt the same back then, too. I wonder how my four year old is perceiving all of this. It feels like we just had his birthday (which unfortunately happened during all of this) and then I realize it was over a month and a half ago.
Anyone else out there suffering from Pandemic Induced Dementia?
Oh, well. It's just another day in paradise...at least I think it's another day?
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