The Lockdown-Furlough Blues

I was furloughed from my job at the start of April. Since then, I’ve worked a grand total of about 15 days in over three months.

For the first time in 30+ years, I wasn’t working... but I wasn’t on holiday either. My partner was still working and, for the first couple of months, guidelines said you shouldn’t go out more than once a day to exercise, other trips should be for essential shopping only – well, you know how it goes, right?

I don’t doubt for a second that millions of people have had/are having a very similar experience to me. A Covid-19 emotional roller-coaster:

Initial response: WOW! Look at all this free time! I’m going to get all the odd jobs done, decorate, read, watch TV, write, better myself... the possibilities are endless. My God – what an opportunity!

About a week later: Huh. This isn’t nearly as much fun as I thought it was going to be.

Since then: F*** me, this is boring.

I like a routine, so I’ve wound up with new ones, which just a few months ago would have seemed enormously slight and mundane. After some prescribed work-related training time, I scroll through Twitter, then a selection of websites (which includes a much more in-depth look than would ever have been previously considered healthy). After that? Depending on the weather - cut the grass, clean the car, odd DIY jobs (hampered by a lack of funds due to furloughed pay at 80%), listen to a podcast, watch TV, listen to music... sell some bits on ebay... um...

I really have no idea how I’ve managed to fill my days. That’s not true, actually. They haven’t been filled – that would imply some level of productive use. Mostly, they’ve been frittered away on the trivial. Ask me what I did this time last week and I wouldn’t have a clue. Question me on what I achieved in the last month and I’d probably go all squirmy and embarrassed, as the answer would be “approximately bugger all”.

I’m not more intellectually complete. Definitely not happier. Not fulfilled. Not refreshed. Not relaxed. Barely more knowledgeable – not about useful stuff anyway.

Attempting to put a thinner-than-a-wafer positive spin on things, I’ve read more, listened to my vinyl record collection and watched some great TV shows. Updated my CV (as my job situation looked precarious), not had a haircut since February, and walked more in my local area than I would ever had done otherwise.

Not great though, is it? For starters I’m feeling anxious, depressed, deflated and angry. Main course features over-cooked feelings of self-doubt, accompanied by being fearful, nervous and worried. Dessert is a rich layered cake of boredom, angst and an overwhelming sense that I’ve ballsed-up my life. Best accompanied with a large glass of the ’67 “Stop being a miserable git and find the positives, do something to change your situation, be positive!” Unfortunately, we’re out of stock of that one, but I did uncork an acceptable bottle of “Ah well, there’s sod all you can do and the sooner you accept it the better” this week, so things might be looking up. Fractionally. Up is a long way above, though.

When I started writing this half an hour ago, I hadn’t intended it to be some kind of depressing confessional. Sorry about that – I’m sure you’ve got enough crap going on without me adding to it with my own massive-downer.

The plan was to talk a bit about the books I have read and TV box sets I’ve watched, along with some music collection reminiscences. Because (and this will surprise no-one) I kept a list and it feels like I ought to do something with it.

I guess I’ve got a topic for the next blog, then.

(Surprising lockdown discovery: Seems I don’t really need an alarm clock. I just wake up around 7am anyway. Oh, the money I could have saved.)

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