Quarantine Thoughts and other half-baked ideas
Have you heard the ill-attributed English expression, “May you live in interesting times”? The only way I would feel comfortable calling our current state interesting is if it’s the way my mother holds the “n” when she has an opinion she’d rather not share—innnnnn-teresting.
Perhaps these times are not interesting so much as they require me to make—or fake—interest in any number of things over the course of the average day, just to keep my brain from being overtaken by a creeping sense of ennui. (It’s that or getting bright ideas about doing something drastic, which is exactly the type of impulsive choice I can do without.)
Despite having spent a lot of time over the last ten years a self-employed semi-slacker, and/or being held captive in my own damn head, I was not prepared for the sheer amount of time I’d have to fill over the course of each day, let alone weeks and months. If Twitter is to be trusted, my fellow Millennials are either trapped in some variation of hell as an “essential” worker, or starting sourdough and podcasts at an astonishing rate. I fall into the latter group, and thusly have been wiling away the hours, dividing attention between snacks, sweatpants, and screens. I’ve also been spending a bit too much time with my own thoughts, which can only end one of two ways under present circumstances: with an intense emotional episodes, or getting lost in the grandiose planning for projects, businesses (and other Quarantine Thoughts) that will never come to fruition – unlike the scraps of celery and scallions re-sprouting across the nation’s window-sills.
My overly ambitious Quarantine Thoughts started small: just fifteen minutes of Spanish practice with Duolingo daily. I didn’t last a week before the app prompted me about the impending break in my streak, and my use became increasingly infrequent after that.
After accepting that was not the “new habit” hill I wanted to die on, I outlined a rigorous schedule of activities in a new Google calendar. That ate up two hours, which was good enough for me. Though I never attempted to follow it, it’s still there, lingering at the bottom of my list of calendars, display box unchecked and therefore hidden from view.
The day Colorado’s shelter-in-place order went into effect, I signed up for Yale’s Science of Well-Being. I logged in once, watched the first few videos, and didn’t visit the site again. With each automated email from the instructor, my resolve to try just dissolved. The next few weeks were a blur of trying not to try to do anything beyond remain entertained. Some days I succeed more than others.
The other day, I sat outside all morning listening to episodes of Over the Road in the sunshine. Its host, “Long Haul Paul” Marhoefer, speaks with this calm intention that allows my mind’s eye to see Sam Elliot in the driver’s seat, affable and avuncular as he introduces me to the world of America’s truckers. This led to my first Quarantine Thought of the day: maybe I should become a long-haul truck driver. Down the wormhole I went, researching, in this order: pay; women's trucking organizations; a wide array of trucker-centric country music, past and present; the pros and cons of being an owner/operator. I did not bother to investigate the requirements for getting a CDL or training programs; it was just a Quarantine Thought, after all.
Gushing over Marhoefer-as-played-by-Sam-Elliot aside, I’m not much for podcasts; truthfully, I prefer non-intrusive background music or silence to most things. Yet now there’s two, it seems, that warrant recommendation: OTR and You’re Wrong About - another great binge-stream, should you be in need. Before that, there were only three I listened to with any regularity: Serial, Savage Love, and This American Life. The first was fucking depressing, the second got old as the number of minutes devoted to Dan’s political ranting increased, and the latter didn’t fit into my days once I ceased commuting by train.
It’s not a far leap from fond memories of Ira Glass to thinking “maybe *I* should make a podcast.” Each episode would be reasonably short – just an interview with someone interesting, taking me through their progression as an adult, each “version” they created of their Self. The name comes to me: Iterations of Self. The more I think on it, the more I like my idea; the five years I spent building Tattoo Snob taught me a lot about the value of giving your project a good name. There is a Yeti mic on a shelf beside my desk, purchased when I thought I was going to start doing voiceover work. It would be easy to start. This is how I spent the afternoon, tracking down bookmarks from similar internet wormholes past. I stop myself before I start making lists of prospective guests and ideas for commonalities that could later be used to create longer episodes; that was one leap of effort too far.
Yesterday morning I found myself pouring over United States propaganda cartoons done by Theodor Geisel, aka Dr. Seuss, during the 1940's. I was fuzzy on how I got there, but my browser history revealed it went something like: International Workers Day > Charles Lindbergh > historical propaganda posters > Dr. Suess’ work – but where I wound up was reading Sophie Gilbert’s piece on the more troubling elements of these illustrations.
Let no idle search go unpunished, eh? Like I said, I’m just trying to keep busy. It’s more fulfilling – and less expensive – than compulsive digital window shopping. These rabbit holes are welcome distractions from internal monologues better unshared. It's not that my thoughts can kill me, so much as they often try when I don't make the effort to exercise them by way of writing them down.
I’ve spent weeks avoiding the obvious: I need to finish something.
So here we are.
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Quick Shares: Ever wind up knee-deep in a new hobby’s subreddits? (My most recent was in pursuit of the PPD ratings for European sunscreens.) I justify how much time I spend on Twitter because I can still be surprised by things like this thread about hipsters, as well as the one that got me there. Besides, it’s the only way I wind up seeing any of the TikTok duck content going around right now. Getting wine drunk at 11am? That’s quarantine, baby! Lastly: feel as if things are only getting shittier? It’s not you, it’s entropy.