Meewella | Fragments

The Life of P

Year: 2021

The COVID-19 Diaries V: The Year Inside

You have probably noticed the distinct lack of blog posts (or perhaps you haven’t — there have been some other significant things going on in the world); I have essentially managed four since the start of lockdown over a year ago, and nothing in the last five months. At the start it was easy to explain: I didn’t want to post positive platitudes that I barely believed, nor did I want to wallow self-indulgently in my own lockdown malaise when everyone was experiencing their own difficulties, whether living alone or in claustrophobic company. The real reason ran deeper: my focus was shot, and my thought processes had become so fragmented that the sheer effort required to compose more than a paragraph of coherent text at a time seemed impossible. So, what would I have said?

It’s April 2020 and the reduction in my meat intake over the last two years has almost entirely reversed only a month into lockdown. I had cut my meat in take by around 50% before the pandemic, primarily because of the hypocrisy of espousing environmental concern given the carbon footprint of a borderline carnivorous diet. Abandoning this was less a conscious choice than the ease of and desire for the comfortingly familiar. That, and take-away delivery. During the first lockdown I cooked almost entirely for myself. By the second lockdown, Deliveroo and Just Eat were regular features, with the dual middle class guilt of relying on someone else adopting the risk of infection outdoors whilst I remain home, and the disposing of armfuls of single-use food containers. But hey, I haven’t flown in two years so overall my carbon footprint is way down.

It’s May 2020 and I’ve been consuming a lot of TikTok. The target demographic may be younger than me but there are increasing numbers of older content creators. Most importantly, there’s plenty of creativity and – as far as social media goes – it’s far healthier than hours of doomscrolling through twitter or Instagram. For related reasons, I refuse to watch the Government’s perfidious press briefings on the pandemic: reading the news coverage dissecting it afterwards is probably more informative and certainly less draining on my mental health. Consumption is far easier than creation; I can’t write anything of significance (much as I want to contribute to the dialogue around structural racism), so digital illustrations have been my outlet, whether they are simply portraits or more meaningful. They may take a dozen hours to produce, but at least it can be done whilst binge-watching a TV series.

It’s June 2020 and I haven’t interacted in person with anyone who isn’t a grocery store clerk for two and a half months. It is definitely the lack of social — and physical — contact that I find the hardest. Being in the flat for around 9 days at a time between trips to restock the fridge is weird but has not left me feeling particularly caged as I can still journey into all manner of worlds through videogames and films. Meanwhile my hair is nearing a length one might consider “grown” rather than merely uncut. My goal is to avoid getting it cut until we reach the inevitable second lockdown, which should allow it to reach a length where I can tie it back neatly. This is the only time it is socially acceptable for me to grow out long hair in my line of work, so I may as well take advantage of it. A boar bristle brush and Moroccan Oil have been vital tools in taming the longer locks.

It’s July 2020 and my concentration is shot. I seem just about able to function for work, though working from home and living alone has blurred any distinction around the end of the work day. Which is not to say it’s bad — saving hours of commuting a week and never worrying about being late are serious benefits; the issue is more the general expectation that you’re contactable most of the time rather than when in the office. Plus there’s the matter of air conditioning. I want to write more, to engage with our shared experiences worldwide through this pandemic, but I can’t. QuickViews are about all I can manage. At least that means I’m still producing Content™. That’s important, right? I remember Content™ being important.

It’s August 2020 and I find myself helplessly torn between the desire to contribute to small businesses told that they can reopen and the personal conviction that the Eat Out to Help Out scheme is dangerously ill-conceived. I made a joke about it not applying to strip clubs which was uncouth but also probably the best thing I’ve written this year. It seems that there is a desperate desire for a return to normality shared by the entire population but the looming disaster of a worse collapse if we reopen too early is only recognised by half. That is not nearly enough.

It’s September 2020 and spending one day a week in the office (primarily to ensure I can provide a better training experience to my trainee) has finally reduced the extent to which the days and weeks merge entirely into one another. It’s a welcome change, even if it can’t last.

It’s October 2020 and we’re preparing for a second national lockdown. Only six weeks late. The fixed 2nd December end date is worrisome as I suspect Johnson is determined to reopen no matter the circumstances in order to enable several weeks of pre-Christmas shopping, even if it forces us straight back into an even longer lockdown. How some people still support these self-serving clowns is beyond me, with literally billions wasted on failed test and tracing and openly corrupt contract awards. Oh, and the dead, who are becoming almost a footnote.

It’s November 2020 and this lockdown has been far more bearable with weekly visits from my sister and nephew. When others reminisce nostalgically about the first lockdown, it is very clear they did not live alone before “social bubbles” were permitted.

It’s December 2020 and I hate being right. After a few pointless weeks out of lockdown, I will be spending Christmas alone, although I will get to see my sister’s family on Boxing Day. A care package from a partner at work filled with gin and old fashioneds definitely makes me feel appreciated. It’s better that it’s me rather than anyone else — after all, I have had to do it before, exactly ten years ago. Let’s hope Christmas 2030 fares better…

It’s January 2021 and my concentration is shot. Did I say that already? I have started world-building as a creative outlet, fleshing out an alternate version of London or fantasy kingdoms for use in roleplaying games. The advantage is that I can produce just a single card at a time and gradually build things out over weeks and months. I don’t know that I will actually run games using these worlds. Perhaps later I will write stories using these settings; for now, the act of creation is the goal in itself.

It’s February 2021 and I can feel myself starting to unravel with built-up stress from work and no way to blow off steam. I haven’t been drinking excessively at home (my overall intake has dropped rather than risen over the past year, the opposite of my expectation given that the flat is very well stocked with booze) and I don’t think it would help. My sleep cycle remains pretty broken. I have fully grown into the “lockdown Jesus” look.

It’s March 2021 and it has been the best (worst?) part of a year spent inside. The vaccination rollout provides a reason to be optimistic; the COVID variants appearing do not. It’s a good thing that Brexit was all about taking back control of our borders so that, a year into a literal global pandemic, naturally the Government is only now discussing the feasibility of closing the borders, the one thing any casual player of Plague, Inc. knows is incredibly effective for an island nation. It has been a long and exhausting year and yet, through the repetitive monotony, I struggle to recall much at all beyond the shared cultural touchstones like The Tiger King. Perhaps if I sat down and tried to diarise it…

It’s—

Recreating inside a photo I took outside just before the start of lockdown: in the London-set Watchdogs Legion (top) and the Outside World (bottom).

The COVID-19 Diaries IV: Good Morrow

I think we can all agree that the season finale of 2020 was rather underwhelming, offering little levity after a decidedly subdued Christmas Special as a result of last-minute cast and location changes. The vaccination storyline is the most promising going into 2021, and hints at a return to regular programming later in the year. My concern, however, is that many people have allowed themselves to fixate upon the end of 2020 as an end to problems that plagued it. 2020 may have been awful from the start, but the arbitrary marker of 1 January 2021 is not a hard reset, and the reality of continuing to deal with 2020’s issues is likely to be a hard realisation that crashes down later this month, consciously or otherwise. Please keep an eye on each other.

My camera remained holstered for most of the year (though I remain proud of the desolate London in Lockdown shoot in March) so there won’t be the usual lengthy photographic rundown of 2020. There are, however, a few things worth sharing.

Featured here is Makoto Shinkai’s 5 Centimetres Per Second.

The bulk of updates to the site have continued to be QuickViews, which grew by 43 new films in 2020. Whilst not inconsequential, that is around half the rate of the previous the two years. I had rather expected that lockdown would cause this number to rise rather than to fall. The best explanation I can provide is that my ability to concentrate has been greatly diminished by the tumultuous year and so I have probably been drawn more toward shorter television episodes that require a shorter attention span. I have noticed a similar shift in videogaming where, unusually, I am now more likely to indulge in familiar, repetitive gameplay (like Destiny or Assassin’s Creed) than seeking out fresh new experiences.

I have been hosting a sporadic virtual movie night, dubbed COVIDeo Club, which provided a more social and structured way to force myself to carve out time for films. It is partially democratic, with films selected by a vote from a shortlist I circulate in advance. The highlight was The Peanut Butter Falcon which many of us might otherwise have missed.

Also, for those who may have missed access to Reeltime Harry Potter (due to a broken liveblog plugin that is no longer maintained), I have now formatted them by hand so that you can revisit them once more.

Georgina Hare painting
During the first lockdown, I commissioned this gorgeous painting from Georgina Hare and it now hangs above my bed. My nephew David is also a big fan.

As readers will know, many of my friends are artists and performers who have been particularly hard hit by lockdown. They are smart and adaptable, of course, but by far the best way to support artists is — ultimately — purchasing their services. I have tried to do so during lockdown, though I could probably do more.

A virtual Dalmore whisky tasting with drams supplied by The Whisky Exchange, and led over Zoom by Dalmore’s master blender, Richard Paterson.

Translating real world experiences to virtual platforms has been an inconsistent affair. A tasting, for example, loses any real sense of social interaction, but can still be fun for enthusiasts if you have an engaging speaker. Aside from regular D&D sessions led by Ben, which have become considerably more frequent without needing to align calendars so that we can be physically in the same place, my tabletop games have gone largely untouched over the past year, even as more arrive from Kickstarter campaigns I backed in 2018 and 2019, as if to taunt me. Playing a few online alongside Zoom calls has been fun, but there is definitely space for an online substitute with greater verisimilitude.

During the first lockdown I managed largely to avoid the Zoom quizzes that seemed to entertain and then infuriate. I did however end the year with a couple of virtual escape rooms with work (in lieu of a Christmas party, with riddles that played very much to my skillset) and with friends (on New Year’s Eve).

The length of my hair by Christmas. Also featured is Philip the Bird, one of several puppets I acquired to play with my nephew, both in person and over video calls.

Early during the first lockdown, I said that my goal was to avoid cutting my hair until the inevitable second lockdown in order to grow it out. It seems to be the one social acceptable time for me to experiment with long hair. It has certainly been a learning curve, particularly as I discovered my hair is extremely wavy at length (controlled with a boar bristle paddle brush and a Moroccan Oil lotion). My current intention is for it to reach shoulder length, though I don’t know how long it will last. Reviews have been largely positive…

"Luck is the residue of design."

(CC) BY-NC 2004-2021 Priyan Meewella

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