Chronicles of the Virus Day 12
I am not normally an energetic person (yes, I'm lazy) and when I don't have an outside deadline, I flounder. I tend to be at my most energetic in the hour or two before my classes begin. Or when I have to make lunch. Or when I have to go somewhere. Otherwise, I just lounge unless I pick myself up and order myself to do something. And even then I can get sidetracked easily.
So, I haven't been painting. In the afternoons, light floods my studio and I can easily finish a pastel painting that has been sitting here since autumn. But I don't. My writing has suffered, too. I am at a point in my story where it would be prudent to visit the areas I am writing of, instead of using Google Maps, which, even in satellite view, don't exactly show the reality of a place. I discovered that fact when I went looking for a place where my characters could ford a river, and discovered they couldn't do it unless they had six-foot legs. I had to rewrite an entire scene. I know I can just keep write and rewrite details later, but there's a blockage in place, and I won't get much done.
I have attended to some aspects of house cleaning that needed attention, though not enough, either. So, what do I do most of the time? Play with the cats. Or sit on the back step in the sun and read. Scroll the internet and discover interesting tidbits or remember others, such as Pepys' diary.
Make a schedule? I've tried that before and it's never worked. I could try again, but, being self-imposed, it's easier to flout than if it depended on outside intervention. I am not a disciplined person in my life.
What I do try to avoid is the bad news about the reason I'm stopped at home. Last night, I heard there were a few people laid low with the virus in my township, including one or two in the ICU at Santiago. My husband also told me about someone he knows in a long-distance relationship who wants to drive to a city about two hours away to visit the girl, because he just can't wait to see her. The person my husband told me about has never thought things all the way through. I hope he doesn't go. Or, if he tries, that he's stopped and sent back home.
There are people who don't seem to use many of the neurons their brains have. I read about an 80 year old woman who was stopped on a street in Villafranca, Navarra, by the police. She had no reason to be there, and when they asked her, she replied that she was holding the speed for her granddaughter. When they took three bags of speed from one of her pockets, she lifted her skirt and asked the officers, "Do you want to search here, too?" She wasn't wearing underwear. So, she got charged with breaking the state of alarm, illicit drug dealing, and obscenity. When you think you've seen it all....
...you realize there's still more. On an account in Twitter, @LiosdeVecinos, there are posts of signs hanging in common halls of apartment buildings. Such as the one asking people not to engage in "clandestine" encounters in the trash room, or to keep matrimonial duties at low volume, or not to take out Sra. Antonia's dog nine times a day, or to please use the static bicycles or other exercise equipment at hours when people are not likely to be resting. There's also a picture of a type of pincushion with toothpicks to use to press the elevator buttons. And calls to responsibility of those that have televisions on so loud the buildings in front can clearly hear the program, or those that decide to hang pictures in the middle of the night, and use a drill to make the holes.
And there are the spoilsports that have to make this a bitter trial for all their neighbors. In an apartment building in Santiago, with a large inner plaza, a neighbor was acting as DJ every evening. He played a large variety of music. Until, one day, he played the kind of modern music most teenagers like. Someone complained to the police, and they came with a cease and desist order. From that day on, the music concerts ended, and frustrated neighbors pleaded for musical appreciation. It takes just one Scrooge.
So, look for the comedy. It's out there.
Life continues.
So, I haven't been painting. In the afternoons, light floods my studio and I can easily finish a pastel painting that has been sitting here since autumn. But I don't. My writing has suffered, too. I am at a point in my story where it would be prudent to visit the areas I am writing of, instead of using Google Maps, which, even in satellite view, don't exactly show the reality of a place. I discovered that fact when I went looking for a place where my characters could ford a river, and discovered they couldn't do it unless they had six-foot legs. I had to rewrite an entire scene. I know I can just keep write and rewrite details later, but there's a blockage in place, and I won't get much done.
I have attended to some aspects of house cleaning that needed attention, though not enough, either. So, what do I do most of the time? Play with the cats. Or sit on the back step in the sun and read. Scroll the internet and discover interesting tidbits or remember others, such as Pepys' diary.
Make a schedule? I've tried that before and it's never worked. I could try again, but, being self-imposed, it's easier to flout than if it depended on outside intervention. I am not a disciplined person in my life.
What I do try to avoid is the bad news about the reason I'm stopped at home. Last night, I heard there were a few people laid low with the virus in my township, including one or two in the ICU at Santiago. My husband also told me about someone he knows in a long-distance relationship who wants to drive to a city about two hours away to visit the girl, because he just can't wait to see her. The person my husband told me about has never thought things all the way through. I hope he doesn't go. Or, if he tries, that he's stopped and sent back home.
There are people who don't seem to use many of the neurons their brains have. I read about an 80 year old woman who was stopped on a street in Villafranca, Navarra, by the police. She had no reason to be there, and when they asked her, she replied that she was holding the speed for her granddaughter. When they took three bags of speed from one of her pockets, she lifted her skirt and asked the officers, "Do you want to search here, too?" She wasn't wearing underwear. So, she got charged with breaking the state of alarm, illicit drug dealing, and obscenity. When you think you've seen it all....
...you realize there's still more. On an account in Twitter, @LiosdeVecinos, there are posts of signs hanging in common halls of apartment buildings. Such as the one asking people not to engage in "clandestine" encounters in the trash room, or to keep matrimonial duties at low volume, or not to take out Sra. Antonia's dog nine times a day, or to please use the static bicycles or other exercise equipment at hours when people are not likely to be resting. There's also a picture of a type of pincushion with toothpicks to use to press the elevator buttons. And calls to responsibility of those that have televisions on so loud the buildings in front can clearly hear the program, or those that decide to hang pictures in the middle of the night, and use a drill to make the holes.
And there are the spoilsports that have to make this a bitter trial for all their neighbors. In an apartment building in Santiago, with a large inner plaza, a neighbor was acting as DJ every evening. He played a large variety of music. Until, one day, he played the kind of modern music most teenagers like. Someone complained to the police, and they came with a cease and desist order. From that day on, the music concerts ended, and frustrated neighbors pleaded for musical appreciation. It takes just one Scrooge.
So, look for the comedy. It's out there.
Life continues.
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