It seems like it is impossible to find a routine this year. Once I find comfort in living for the present, it feels like I’m constantly anticipating something. It’s why I’m calling 2020 the year of waiting.
The pandemic is testing the patience of a lot of people. From frustrations with people not following the CDC’s guidelines to struggling to find a routine that works, it seems impossible to have patience anymore. We are experiencing a year that’s simultaneously standing still and moving faster than we can grasp, and it feels like a time warp. I’ve lost control of the world around me.
We must adapt.
Adapting to countless “new normal's” is a skill a lot of us are learning. In March, we watched the spread of the virus consume the United States, after it already tore apart places like China and Italy. We adapted to using less toilet paper and making fewer trips to the grocery store, to protect ourselves from the disease. We later re-adapted to mask mandates, after originally being told that masks don’t work. We spaced ourselves six feet and learned to do our work from home.
For me, college classes became impossible. My environment for learning was not productive as much as it was comfortable, and focusing became incredibly difficult. It took weeks to find a routine, and once I felt that I had my footing, the semester ended.
The summer is like treading water. My job at a concert venue is usually the key to a productive and healthy summer - it keeps me in shape, happy, and busy - and without it, I’m lost. The idea of finding a job during a pandemic, to me, is too scary, so I’ve been trying to keep busy with projects of my own, family, and various professional opportunities through the university I attend.
We are now reaching mid-August, and this subconscious feeling I once was unable to name is more prevalent.
I am waiting for something. I’ve spent quite a bit of time thinking about what I could possibly be waiting for, and it’s many things. I’m waiting for information: to find out when exactly I can return to my beloved college town, when I can safely see friends and go out to eat, when I can attend normal classes again, and if I will be able to work concerts next year.
In short, I am waiting for the pandemic to be over. We all are.
Alas, this feeling of waiting has weighed on me. It’s an added stress because, well, I am not as spontaneous as I sometimes wish I could be.
For scheduled people, this pandemic is a test of our ability to be flexible. I was very strictly scheduled in high school, and I refused to let go of a set schedule. For instance, group projects were the worst; I worked with a group as the editor for a video, but the clips I needed to edit were sent to me at the last possible second. Instead of turning in a late project, I assembled the video and posted it to YouTube around 4am. My mom kept me home from school to sleep the next day, but my only concern was that the project was completed on time. It was unhealthy to say the least, putting my schedule and perfectionism before my mental health.
In addition to being unhealthy, it meant that my life was also pretty boring. If I had mentally prepared to stay in all weekend, no invite could get me out of the house. I didn’t stay after school or miss the bus because it wasn’t part of the schedule. I didn’t need to have a place to be for it to be part of the schedule. My routine was boring and redundant, but I felt in control.
College changed this a little bit. I entered my first year with a more open mind, and I wanted to make lots of friends. In my head, I felt that I wasn’t memorable in high school, and I wanted this next experience to be different. I joined a club, talked in my classes, and tried to meet people. I made plans with the people I met freshman year that I thought would last into my sophomore year, and when it didn’t work out, I needed to start from scratch.
I became more flexible. I lived alone with my cat, Winston, which allowed me to still keep a schedule - I had to give some of my time to him - but still remain flexible within it. No two weeks were the same, and it allowed me to make more friends and accept leadership opportunities.
The schedule loosened even more last year. I lived in an apartment with people, so I scheduled things that were meant to be scheduled - like meetings, work, and classes - but I allowed time to be spontaneous. Yes, you read that right. My version of flexible is scheduling time for spontaneity.
Then came March 12th, 2020, and schedules were tossed out the window, soaked in tears of canceled plans, then buried forever by COVID.
From there, every day is groundhog day. It’s like I am living in the Bermuda Triangle, repeating the same routine every day. The routine is boring, and I’m desperate for change.
Yet, I am stuck waiting for change.
This desperation for a return to normalcy is hopefully almost over. We made it to August, and that’s what I am focusing on. Autumn will soon turn 85-degree days into 65-degree days, and with it will come cozy holidays. While I am unsure when I will return to school, as move-in has just been delayed by a month, or if I will ever see my favorite professors in person again, I know it will be okay.
I’ve decided that 2020 is a year not worth waiting for. I am taking back this horrible, no good, very bad year and organizing myself for the fall semester. I will assume the worst case scenario but hope for the best.
I encourage you all to do the same. Let us find new forms of power in 2020, in order to improve ourselves and our abilities to be flexible.
Hey, and pat yourself on the back, too. You're doing a great job adjusting to this year each day.
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