There have been times in human history when the term “Woe is me” was actually stated in seriousness by people who were sad or overly challenged. In modern usage, though, it is said in a more dramatic, humorous way, and sometime with a hint of irony: “I won front row tickets to the concert Saturday night and now I can’t watch the new movie on Netflix. Woe is me.”
Today, though, I’m feeling a bit “Woe is me” and not in the humorous or ironical way, but also not in the drowning in sorrow way. For lack of a better expression, I’m going with that one.
I’ve been stuck in the house all week with a husband who has been suffering through his first bout of Covid-19, and waiting to see if I, too, will come down with it. It’s like living with a ticking time bomb.
I canceled all the fun plans I had this week, of course. And while I don’t mind tending to my sick husband at all (he’s always so good to me when I’m ill), he’s taken over the only room in the house with a TV. I’m not much of a TV watcher, but I do like to unwind at night with an episode of Masterpiece Theater (no, I’m serious). So, I’m feeling a bit sorry for both of us at the moment.
It’s been such a sickly winter, hasn’t it? I myself was super ill in November and December. I don’t think I’ve fully recovered even now. And most of my friends have taken turns in their sickbeds as well. In this post-pandemic world, it’s tempting to wear a mask everywhere I go, but on the occasions I’ve worn one, I feel like everyone is looking at me like I’m a killjoy.
All of this musing is really just me stalling. The fact is, I don’t have it in me this week to be inspiring or uplifting or to look for the good in anything. Down deep, I still believe our art and creativity matters, but I guess it doesn’t matter all of the time. Today, for example, it’s hard to care.
Self-pity, I suppose, is just part of being human, though it’s a part we’re often scolded for experiencing. We’re told self-pity is not productive in any way, but it did produce this blog post, didn’t it? So, there you go. Don’t ever let anyone tell you what is and isn’t productive.
I won’t dwell in this state for long, though. That would feel like creative suicide. But just acknowledging it’s where I’m at right now without any self-criticism has made me feel a tiny bit better. If you found this particular post woefully inadequate, I apologize. By brain is just a bit foggy today.
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