Waiting and the Numbers Game

How are you travelling? Is life good, bad or indifferent, or a mix of all of these? What do you enjoy most in your current world? What gives your life meaning? What are you waiting for? If these were your last days how would you use them differently?

These are the questions that percolate to the top of my otherwise mush brain on most days. I’m in the mood for a little soporific, self indulgent reflection around these themes so if you have better things to do please head in their direction while I waddle through the mud!

Numbers seem to loom large in my world and that of many other people living in Melbourne/ Victoria at present. Melbourne is in lock down as Corona virus numbers soared to 700 plus a day last week in greater Melbourne where my family and many friends live. In regional Victoria the streets are largely empty too as we march to the drum of stage 3 restrictions. Each day I check the numbers of new cases, number of deaths, number of active cases and recovered cases. I try to make sense of trends. It seems the number of new cases is dropping in response to the lock downs. I waiver between a good, strong grasp of the meaning of these trends and patterns and days where I ask really simple questions………” Elimination? Yes but where does the virus go? How do you get a virus to fizzle out? How come Brits are on holiday in the Greek Islands? Is the virus taking a holiday too when it saw sunshine and pasty white people in bikinis? New Zealand’s elimination lasted 102 days now its back in small but growing numbers and the country is in lock down again. Where did the virus go for 102 days? Some holiday!

Numbers! Selling house. Buying houses. Numbers. These numbers worked out OK. But now different numbers take the places of price points, margins and dreams. How many days until I can move into the new house ? When I was a kid and mum and dad mentioned we’d be renting a caravan for our annual seaside holiday I’d rush from the table and start packing- even though the holiday may have been 2 months away. Nothing’s changed. The numbers tell me removals day is September 18th. That’s 35 days or 840 hours until I walk into my new home. The boxes are packed, the storage unit full. I have 2 plates, glasses, mugs available for use and yesterday I wanted to cook Asian food but realised the wok was packed. The cat still has her bedding and bowls but looks askance at the bubble wrapped chaos that swirls around her.

In March this year I set goals. I would emerge from this corona mania svelte and sleek, panther like, fit and strong. I would be cosmically aware, centred and calm from all the mindfulness courses I was doing. I would have written 2 books, have weekly zoom chats with the family and friends across the world and used the time to think deeply about humankind and my place in it. My next ten year plan would be in shape and I would emerge like a butterfly from the Corona haze ready to do my best life’s work. Instead I scratch at the pages like a broody hen, nest in soft furry throws and candlelight and Netflix is my best friend. There’s not much to share to create scintillating conversations with others. Recipes have outlived their interest after 6 months of life in this altered state. Food and wine are most enjoyable and packing boxes is my gym. So its back to the numbers. How many days until, if all goes well, Melbourne emerges from stage 4 lock-down and I can see the family again?

It’s now 839 hours until I move house. I’ve already designed the new kitchen and booked the builder. The trees and new planting are on order and arrive the week after settlement. I’ve purchased some new furniture that should arrive at this time. The new paint colours are chosen and the garden design for the first stage is done. All I need is a key to the front door and an empty bank account.

Stay well. Be happy…..Just 838 hours and 55 minutes to go…… Nora

 

14 August 2020 | Life-Style

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