Our powers of observation are so heightened – we are noticing every inch of our faces (terrible) and our homes (awful). Every tiny corner of the rooms we’ve been in for HOW MANY DAYS IS IT THOUGH? Every crack and cranny of our faces/living rooms. But despite this new super power (not one of the ones we wanted to be fair), are we doing anything about the dust and degradation? *stares into the distance while snacking* It turns out heightened awareness does not equal an increase in motivation… Remember when we used to say, ‘I LONG for time to sort out the linen cupboard/do the photo album/clean the bathroom?’ Well, we were lying.
Are you permanently going around with a wet wipe (biodegradable of course, because Greta) attached to your hand? Every time you open your eyes, they fix on some tiny corner, skirting, bathroom nook, window ledge that is covered in black speccy stuff. You scrub away for a bit. But. But you tire so easily and it always seems to come back. It’s like you are in a Greek myth and you have been punished for giving the humans fire.
You made a catastrophic mistake very early on in isolation: digging around in your kitchen cupboard you found a spilled packet of pumpkin seeds circa 2014 (when someone told you that each one contains more vitamins than the rainforest). So you munched away on them for immunity and cracked a crown that you now can’t get fixed. Then, worrying away at the cracked crown with your tongue, wondering when it will fall way and reveal a raw nerve, you took everything out and cleaned the cupboard setting a hideous cupboard-cleaning precedent. Have you cleaned out all the other cupboards and thrown away all the other (frankly dangerous) out-of-date condiments? Have you fuck… The clean cupboard is just a testament to your defeated soul.
Have there always been so many cobwebs? Why the hell aren’t the spiders self-isolating? And when you actually get up the sofa, shake off the crisp crumbs, yank up your yoga pants to just underneath your bra (or where your bra would be if you were wearing one) and climb on a chair to tackle the trail, you begin to tip and tip and then panic about falling off and fracturing something tiny. You can’t go to A&E. First of all they wouldn’t let you in and secondly SAVE THE NHS. SAVE THE NHS. You are just going to live with cobwebs. Nature is getting its own back.
Maybe this is just the way the mind is working to protect us from the slow unfolding horror show. But all you can think of when watching the 5pm news briefings is: ‘Is the TV hung too low?’ You are worried you are going to get TV neck from all the strain of looking very, very slightly down: plus there’s the sexy double chin to consider. Because that is nothing to do with the biscuits.
Is it because everyone is at home, making crumbs all the time, brushing their hair and exfoliating their skin twice as much; having depressed baths and loofahing their feet? Who knows why, but there seems to be mountains of dust everywhere? EVERYWHERE. You have anxiety dreams about dust coming out of your ears. Ear dust. Mouth dust.
When did your home become 90% wires? Wires everywhere, clumping in corners, trailing down walls, curling up on kitchen counters, dangling off computers, poking out of drawers? You are either tripping up or googling YouTube videos about how to Marie Kondo your wires. And do you know what wires accumulate? Yes. DUST. For dust’s sake.