I came to a startling revelation the other day: I’ve become a domesticated loli. 🤯 Way back in my younger days (i.e., last year), I was all about clubbing, getting wasted, and having recreational sex with a small, select group of friends and exes. I wrote when the mood struck, but otherwise, I was all about living. If you think some of my Diary entries last year and the year before were bad, you have no idea. The things I didn’t record we’re way, way worse. 😅
Then the Coronavirus happened, and I was forced to stay indoors. It was a dramatic lifestyle shift, for sure, but also an unexpectedly pleasant one. After the initial outrage/tantrums/bouts of crying, I decided to make the most of my incarceration and turn up the dial on my writing, and… well, before I knew it, everything kind of just changed.
Instead of managing to squeeze out hundreds of words a day, I bled out thousands. Instead of straining to publish three or four Patreon posts a month, I released three times that. And I had an immense amount of fun with it all, so much so that at the end of the day, I felt creatively (and mentally) drained. So awesome.
Which makes me wonder. What’s going to happen once this is all over with? Once the virus is more or less under control? Once I can go out again and I’m free to frolic to and fro like I used to?
I’m not entirely sure that I want to anymore. I kind of like staying indoors, being productive, and being safe from all the craziness outside my door. I was thinking about all this the other day, and I came to a startling revelation: my prison, my bubble, has become comfortable. In fact, I’m not sure how often I’ll go out at all once this is all over with. Is this kind of how prisoners feel when they’ve been incarcerated for a long time? Do they dread suddenly having absolute freedom thrust upon them?
What about you? Are you going to resume your normal life once all this insanity is finished, or has it permanently scarred you in some way? Let me know.
💡 The More You Know 💡
There is a technical name for the “fear of long words.”
It’s called “hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia.”
Disclosure: This post may contain affiliate links that earn me a small commission, at no additional cost to you. This is because I’m a participant in the Amazon Services LLC Associates Program, an affiliate advertising program designed to provide a means for sites to earn advertising fees by advertising and linking to amazon.com.