The Storming Bohemian Punks The Muse: Covid 19 Edition #15 – “There’s Always Next Tuesday, or Something”
On Tuesday, I ended this column having told you of my decision to purchase paint and canvas to start working in my studio. . . and how it was not to be.
That’s the plain truth. This is going to be a very bluntly honest column.
While it is true that I have made frankly heroic efforts to make this time meaningful, to stand against the storm, to be creative and supportive and engaged and productive, all that, really and truly . . .
The OTHER plain truth is that much of the time I lose sight of all that. I am afraid, not only of my personal future and losing my home and my stability due to lack of paid employment, but something worse. That my life — all our lives—will be rendered meaningless by the multiple crises falling upon us like a meteor shower.
The plain truth is: for this column, I’m tapped out.
I didn’t sleep last night, but tossed and turned.
The day before I binged on candy…enough of it to make me sick.
I have a stack of books on my table that I have promised to review and have opened none of them.
It is not a good day for publishing a column.
When all else fails: simple honesty is all I have to offer.
I know I’m not alone. And if I’M not alone then neither are you. We’re together, somehow.
That’ll have to enough this Thursday.
Don’t worry, I’ll be back to my usual efforts at good cheer on Tuesday. I hope you’re looking forward to that as much as I am. (Tuesday, I mean.)
There’s always next Tuesday, or something.
Here’s a nice picture of a sunset: