Being an introvert, you’d think this pandemic would be right up my alley. And while, I may be fairing better than some of my extrovert friends, and as much as I say I don’t like to people, there is a line even I am uncomfortable with. Pandemic is that line.
As a writer, I sit down and create new words every week. I escape the hum-drum of daily life and create new worlds to play in. You would think, this would be the time I want to escape more than ever. But I can’t seem to focus. A lot of us can’t. All I can do is watch the news, scroll social media, seeking something…connection? Information? Hope?
Each time I sit down to edit, I can’t seem to get more than a few paragraphs before I feel the urge to check the news-feed. Has something new come up? A cure? A new symptom? A friend in need? It’s draining, and hard to create something when the world around feels like it’s falling apart more and more each day.
Still, on my writing days, I’m sitting down at the computer. I’m slogging along, waiting ever so patiently for my muse to return, symptom-free.