Keeps On Slipping Slipping Slipping

Perhaps it’s because March felt like the month that would never end, but I’ve been surprised how quickly April has gone; there was a point in the middle of the month where I had to look up the date and felt genuinely surprised by how quickly we’d reached the teens, as if they’d crept up behind me and jumped out in surprise: Hello, it’s April 17th already aaaaaaaaaaaaaaah! 

What had actually happened, I suspect, is that the strange, disturbing sensation of days beginning to blur together and seem meaningless in this era of self-quarantine was starting to take hold of me, as well. When time itself seems to be an arbitrary concept — is it Thursday or Friday? Oh, it’s actually Wednesday? Really? — then it’s not the biggest surprise that any sense of time passing in a larger sense starts to fray around the edges, as well.

It was, again, mid-month that I realized that I’d lost track of how long we’d been in quarantine; I’d been telling myself it had just been four weeks, but I’d lost one and we’d been internally quarantined for five already at that point. It was a realization that was part oh, I’m so forgetful, silly me and part wait, am I losing it? all at the same time. Which feels entirely appropriate and authentic to the world as-is, to be blunt.

I don’t subscribe entirely to the view that every day is the same now — I’ve always worked from home, so there’s definitely a sense that my day-to-day isn’t significantly different from what it was, just busier and more compact — but I can’t deny that time certainly feels different right now, in ways I can’t fully wrap my head around… More elastic in some ways, more malleable, without the edges and the shape that used to make everything recognizable.

There’s no punchline here, nor a smart realization or wrap up that puts everything in perspective; I’m just living in the moment same as everyone else, trying to make it through. But, as counter-intuitive as it may be, I’m excited that April passed so seemingly quickly; all things considered, I’d rather time flies than crawls as we collectively hope that things can change and we get to open our doors and see people again.

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