Approaching the Anniversary

 My lily plant is flowering again. 

It was flowering when the pandemic started and it produced 6 blooms last March. That's the most it's ever had and they reached their full glory in early May. Mid-February feels early for it to produce flowers but time doesn't really mean anything anymore. 

Out of all the ways to measure the passage of time, this one feels oddly poignant to me. The plant only flowers once a year so the buds remind me of last spring. It's gone through an entire life cycle. The beginning of the pandemic feels like both yesterday and eons ago. Staying indoors all day everyday used to seem novel - it was like we were on pause just waiting for things to happen. The pandemic was all-consuming and no one could talk about anything else. Now it's just background noise. 

The unity we once shared in making sourdough and feeling bored at home have all given way to business as usual. I don't make my daily sticky notes or write languidly in my diary anymore because I'm back to writing papers and proposal and lesson plans. There's no more sympathy for playing Animal Crossing all day and I've even stopped resisting the pressure to be productive. I get up at 8am everyday, have a coffee and tool around on the computer, shower at 10am and then get to work. I know that sounds leisurely (and it is) but I used to wake up at 10 and not consume anything until I was on the brink of a depressive episode. 

It's been nearly a year (we're just under a month away from March 13th) and I'm not sure if I've changed completely or not at all. This time last year I had no sleep schedule, never remembered to set the timer on the coffee pot, cleaned sporadically, and could barely cook. Now I do all these things consistently and automatically. I write to do lists and actually get them done. I do some modest meal prepping a few times a week. Will I keep these habits once the lockdown lifts or will the added dynamic of leaving the apartment destroy my careful routines? Am I only good at domestic life when I'm literally trapped at home?

Will all this diligent self-discipline crumble when I realize that I've actually just traded social skills for home care skills? When I go to a restaurant for the first time and feel the weight of my inability to cope with a social situation. When a stranger asks me a question and I don't know what to do next? Will I be nervous and reclusive after all this or will I become belligerently social? Will I want to make up for lost time in an endless drunken party?

I have no idea how I'll carry myself once I have to face the world in person. I already have bizarre personal aesthetics in here. Most of the week I wear the same three sweaters and pairs of sweat pants. Some times I can't even muster up the strength to put on leggings - they just feel too restrictive. But then on Fridays (my teaching days) I have An Outfit. I'll put on real tights and a dress. I'll pick out earrings the night before and wear eyeshadow with nice mascara. I make sure my nails are painted and do my full skincare routine. All for students who probably tune in from bed. When this is all over, will I revel in dressing up or stay in the listless rut of shapeless sweaters and elastic waistbands? I have no idea. 

I know that a lot of this is meaningless introspection - whether I go back to wearing control-top nylons or not does not matter. But it does speak to how small my world has become and how little I can control. So much just happens to me - it's beyond the bounds of what I can even conceptualize as possible. At least earrings and eyeshadow are under my sway. Sometimes. 

The plant will flower and seed and the virus will ebb and flow. I'll be in here trying to get by without much insight into what comes next.