Chioke Nassor
My friend today asked me what was my routine for dealing with Covid and my answer was thus:
Wake up, work out using an app, something I've never done before, hop in the shower, make coffee, sit and listen to music while journaling. Try to write for a couple of hours. Get distracted. Look at memes. Make lunch. During lunch, start thinking about what I want to make for dinner. Read a little, mainly short stories or essays, anything with little bursts of dopamine. More memes. Facetime a friend. I've noticed since I cook all the time now and live alone, there's so many dishes, a never ending deluge of dishes. So talking while I do the dishes helps. I'll cook dinner and FaceTime too, pretending I have my own low rent cooking show. Amusement. I'll take a walk before dinner. Buy wine. At 7, I'll scream as loud as I can to support the hospital workers, which has a dual effect, because it's the one completely acceptable time in my neighborhood to scream bloody murder. Really get any frustrations out. Cook the aforementioned dinner. Get into imagined discussions with notable cookbook author Alison Roman about what an acceptable amount of olive oil in a recipe should be. Drink the wine I bought. More memes. Make coffee for my nurse neighbor before her shift and leave it on her doorstep, in the thermos she leaves out every night, a nice ritual. Get into bed. Do the crossword. More memes. Jerk off. Go to sleep. Repeat.
I will say, for all of this emptiness and lack of physical human interaction, I'm trying to get solace out of making healthy habits, moving slower. My friend Asia calls it "her old friend Stockholm Syndrome." But again, small bursts of dopamin. Little by little, thinking minute by minute or at best, hour by hour. It's a good life if you don't weaken, Charlie Brown.
