I am currently in the process of freaking out a bit, and trying to wrap my head around the fact that I have to go back to my old life.
These are strange times we live in: this pandemia does not seem to have any intention of leaving us and we are all unsure of the future; the world has changed and we all have to adjust to a new order. At the moment, I feel more confused than scared.
This is probably the most common question going around on social networks at the moment. With hundreds going on a voluntary self-isolation and even more people officially asked from governments to stay at home, our daily lives have moved online on a 24/24 basis.
Work and communication have been forced into a global re-thinking: we discovered new opportunities and developed unexpected skills.
Young and naive me, for example, never would have expected to learn how to entertain a full class while on camera: the wonders of rearranging your habits. My students keep me floating above the water, I have to admit it. They encourage me constantly and I am forever grateful.
Sometimes I think about what I could tell future generations about the current times: I imagine myself sitting on a very comfy armchair, surrounded by eager and curious little ones, with my hair white and a warm blanket on my tired legs.
In this vision, I am probably eighty and I have seen a lot.
Or maybe I haven’t seen a lot but, still, I have experience on the matters of the existence. Surely, up until this past week I would have never imagined myself as an old auntie scaring the children about that time when the whole world went on a pandemia because of a brand new kind of influenza.
I am writing this post a bit earlier than expected, due to the fact that I will be gone from Kraków for two weeks at least: I will travel to Gdańsk in a couple of days, and then from there to Toruń for the midterm training, and finally I will fly to Sardinia to visit family and celebrate Carnival season (do expect mentions of this festivity in the next post).
When faced with the challenge of planning, or organizing, or simply making a list of things that need to be done I often find myself at a loss at first: what to choose? What to exclude? What if I don’t write something down and I forget it?
I am pretty sure you can hear me moaning in annoyance from afar.
So, why do this? Why sit down one random day of january (when this kind of stuff should have been done on the last days of december, on top of it!) to write a more or less long list of resolutions? Mostly, because I think it is fun: you prepare your nice piece of paper at the beginning of the year and then, at the end of it, you check for what has been accomplished and what has been not; then, at that point, you can have a good laugh with your friends because you wrote ridicoulous things like “ride to Fantasia on top of a white luckdragon”.
Of course you wrote that while still nursing the hangover from New Year’s Eve party, but that’s an irrilevant detail.