COVID-19 Sharehouse Musings
Artwork: April Jiang | @aprildsign
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Content Warning: Drugs, Alcohol
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My period has come again.
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I find it hard to sleep at night knowing I have nothing to wake up for.
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We watch apocalypse movies for the irony but my dreams are terrifying; I wake stiff and sweaty.
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It’s bin night again. I get stoned, and then drunk, and then stoned again. Our washing gets crusty on the line, no reason to bring it inside. My boyfriend and I rotate between three pairs of tracksuit pants, forgetting who originally owned which. It’s time to buy another case of beers.
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This time a year ago I was too busy to make time for myself.
Swings and roundabouts, hey?
I should be writing with all this spare time. I should be on exchange in Europe right now. Grand plans of deep-cleaning my grotty sharehouse and implementing an at-home exercise routine, are pushed back and back. I’ll do it tomorrow has never been an easier excuse.
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Conversations with friends become monotonous and repetitive. The Office is still rotating on the lounge room TV.
Didn’t we watch this episode last week?
I count down the hours on a Friday until the new episode of Brooklyn Nine-Nine has aired in the States. This week, I discovered I’d already watched the final episode of the season last week.
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Devastating.