Love in the Time of Corona

It has been way too long since I did this. Way waaay too long. With the constant stream of everyday life, I haven't been listening to my muse..but now...corona! Doesn't it sound like a pretty royal excuse to not leave the house and do something all by our lonesome?

All joking aside, the fears and dangers of corona have been largely discussed and mused about these past few weeks and I don't plan on doing a special on healthcare here, on this blog. What I'm more interested in is how to spend this newfound time we have on our hands - due to being housebound. To stay put can be a scary command for those of us who are used to busying themselves socially, in large groups of people.

I imagine, it can be quite awkward silently reading a book. Or staring at a wall, thinking, if you're not used to doing something like that. Philosophers supposedly do that all day, but these are a rare breed of people with really special needs. You may not see the immediate appeal, but I think being quarantined can be an awesome experience; it all depends on your expectations. And as a couch potato queen, procrastinative genius, lazy-boned blob myself, I promise you, if you just let it happen, you will have a blast.

There are no rules for procrastination in times of corona, except maybe to not let panic mode destroy your precious time of being in the moment. So I would not recommend on doing corona-related research on the internet. Mortality rates, nah. Stay up to date, yes, but pandemic crises reports? Only when directed by Roland Emmerich!

I have several ideas on how to spend the next few weeks. Gardening is high on my list, it would have been anyway, because it is the type of outdoors solitude I enjoy with the advantage of not having to sneeze into my crooks. I plan on reading even more, but that of course means I have to park my two kids, currently home bound with me, somewhere, where they, in turn can procrastinate all by themselves.

Shut up, you, I'm raising a new generation here!

I want to finally immerse myself in The Witcher 3, I want to watch the new season of Better Call Saul, I want to do some more illustrations, do nothing at all, paint a cabinet, declutter my kitchen. This time I will have, it's not all me running wild. I imagine it is much like life in a monastery. Solitude, a nice herbal gardening project, and lots of walking around in my robe, turning inwards for reflections and stuff.

Well, the reality will be, that I'll probably have to do a lot more kids stuff than I planned on, and I have a sneaking suspicion that solitude, when prescribed, will throw me into a reactant spiral of "You can't tell me what to do!" unrest. So maybe I'll start a rave or something, just to be a bit subversive. Other than that: greener pastures, my friends.

What are all of you going to do? Will you befriend yourself all anew? Will you practice being alone with your thoughts? That doesn't mean being asocial, you know. It just means that you, for a certain time in your life, are enough and content being around you. It's good. You're close family. Being you is one of the best things you have in your life. So, take care. Have a ball, you.

Hoist The Freak Flag!

This thing that I'm about to tell you may sound extremely odd. OK, here goes. Lately, I have been worried about my freak flag. Let me explain what that means. A freak flag is a symbol for a person's level of weirdness. Everyone is a bit weird and, usually, a person's freakishness is visible to others by their flag. Brave people let them fly high up in the air. Like colorful birds, they tell the world that they are flamboyant, unique beings. The higher it goes, the farther you will see it. Hah, space even!

OK, so, in regards to my own freak flag: I think it has been in hiding ever since I had my first kid. Especially having a special needs child, I felt it was time to tuck it in. The thing is, I was afraid that people would link my boy's condition to me, and somehow look for an easy answer to why he is the way he is. I'd rather let them judge and diagnose him by an objective standard. Don't get me wrong, I think it's quite normal trying to figure out why a person is tuned a certain way, and looking at the parents for clues is one of the first things we do. Personalities vary though. My boy is odd. He's very unique. I am too. But while I'm quite shy and introverted, he's the opposite of that. Unlike him, never in a million years would you see me throwing a tantrum in public.

He's suspected of being on the verge of the autism spectrum, but, as things are progressing right now, it could still be a delay in his general development. There currently is no diagnosis that exactly fits his condition. Since most of his problems are centered around speech and social abilities, that area is where his oddity is most visible to others.

So in trying not to be at the center of blame, I made an effort to be less suspicious. I even got accustomed to talking to people. Yes, people. This may not sound like a big deal to the major part of the population, but it is to me. I'm not much of a conversationalist. Small talk makes my palms sweaty. Remembering names and faces and details to me is like playing Sudoku. Once I get it, and I know someone, I'm OK, but it's hard getting used to it. So, when my first kid was born, like all parents, I knew I had to let the world in a little. Talking to other parents, moms, professionals, doctors. And while I got a little bit of practice in doing so on a regular basis, I still feel uncomfortable at times. I think in trying to hide the freak flag, it has become even more elbowing. Because nothing is more odd to people than talking to someone who tries to hide a freak flag. It's like trying to hide a speech impairment by not talking. It's super freaking weird. And that's what I think has happened.

I should have known that overcompensating for my inner freak would not create "normal" behavior. Sometimes over-compensation works that way, with minor flaws it certainly does, but not with a whole personality. So in my quest to appear normal and together to the outside world, I forgot about my own well-being. I got a lot of stomach trouble. Now I want to go back to the old me, at least meet her halfway between crazy town and where I live now. That old me was a super creative, sensitive person who would look at her world through matted glass. I want to be her again. I am her. Freak flag, get out from under there. You're all sad and crinkled. Get up there. Fly.

To be continued!

For The Moment

I was talking to our pediatrician the other day, about how parents will do anything for the health and safety of their kids. They will drive thousands of hours to see the best doctors and do whatever it takes, and give their limbs and organs, if necessary. This conversation sparked a little stream of consciousness on the drive home. I was thinking about those moments, when kids are small babies, when, for the moment, all their needs are fulfilled and they just happily lie there in your arms and doze off, while you, as a parent, can't help but think about all the things yet to come.

How to Get Filthy Rich in 3 Days

You may have been wondering how to do it, that time you fantasized what it would be like sitting on a Dragons chair, instead of only daydreaming about it on a faded IKEA sofa. How I know that? Because I have. And you and me, we are not that different, my friend. Basically, there are three different strategies to tackle the problem of getting rich. Filthy rich. Wanna hear them?


Be a hard worker

Yes, it is possible. All you have to do is to start immediately. Don't even finish reading this piece of junk. Mind you, that we talked about how to become rich in 3 days, not 5 years. So thinking about climbing the career ladder is not an option, unless you're in the mafia.

Robbing a bank could work in that short a timeframe, so could raiding a diamond mine. But the success rate is slim to none. You can write a bestselling book. Release a sex tape on Youtube - Gangnam Style. Blackmail a politician. Sell information to intelligence.

Of course, all these things require that you actually know stuff. And who really knows anything on how to get there besides the people who are already there. Those bastards! We need something more than that!

Be an entrepreneur

Yes, if hard work is hard, being an entrepreneur is even...harder. Please write that down. That sounds like an eloquent proverb.

Anyways, there are ways to do it. Invest a little of grandma's inheritance in shares at the stock market. Become an Ebay sales phenomenon. Market the water from your rain water tank as though it was Bling H₂O.

Then again, this requires that you actually know something, like the market and consumer habits, your way around a computer and the internet. But many a time, you'll also need a talent that you'll be able to sell, especially if you're in the arts business. Good for you if you already have that luxury.

But I'm asking on behalf of the rest of us, who can really afford to acquire a talent? It's 3 bloody days!? How can Cletus Spuckler become rich within 3 days?



The fallback: Be very, very lucky

Be the child of Bill Gates, spawn of the Koch media tribe or marry someone from that litter. But in that case, you'd probably already be filthy filthy rich. Bastard, you!

Win the lottery. Become a Kardashian, a Reality TV superstar. Again, you'd probably need more than 3 days to reach an audience to develop that lucrative love-hate relationship with. Who knows, you may get lucky.

Visiting a talent show without having any talent is also an option. Actually it may be our best option. But it's kind of mandatory that you're unaware that you have no talent. Mocking the system doesn't work that way, unless you're a star comedian. And that, again, would be some form of talent. So touché, my talentless friends, we're in a cul-de-sac on the road to success. Cul-de-what?

Don't fall into despair. Chances are, that if you're pursuing one of these things, one of anything, for a really long time, you'll eventually become good at it, successful even. Not in 3 days, but maybe in 3 years. Or 30. Van Gogh only sold 2 of the 2000 paintings he created during his lifetime. He made exceptional art in the belief that he was a complete failure as an artist. Now look at him. What a filthy rich corpse.