I’ve been pretty good about being stuck at home during lockdown. I love my walks, I love having the family around, I love not having to travel.
But…
It became obvious this weekend that, despite having worked from home for years, I am still conditioned to expect weekends to be different and the fact that at the moment they are not means that each day is exactly the same as any other.
This is beginning to get to me…
The Obvious? 
It is interesting isn’t it? I spent years doing the Monday to Friday, 9 to 5 until only recently when I started shift work as a support worker and it changed everything. Weekends became meaningless particularly since I like to have my two days off spaced apart. The names of days are now irrelevant. It illuminates how arbitrary labels and applied meanings sometimes are. I literally forget what day it is and it simply doesn’t matter. Fortunately I love it!
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Yes, thinking more about it it’s not so much the loss of structure that bothers me, I like the flexibility and even when I was driving I would sometimes drive “at the weekend”. My current frustration is the fact that every day is exactly the same. This feeling will pass though, and having done today’s walk has already started to recede, as when I remember to notice every walk, and every day, is more different than I think!
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Indeed. Walking is truly and incredible gift for which I try to be ever grateful. Exercise, variety, stimulation, contemplation. I don’t know what I’d do without it as I’m sure you wouldn’t too.
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