We’ve been at this social distancing thing for a couple of weeks now.

Which means we’re only a few weeks away from everything starting to return to normality.

The curve is approaching it’s peak, but this story is one we’ll be able to tell for the rest of our lives.

What do you want to be able to say you did in isolation?

Today, the common expectations around holidays were reversed.

Instead of being expected to come together, we were forced to stay apart. No matter how unnatural or uncomfortable.

For those with less of these days to look forward to, both the cost of abiding by the rules and the risks involve with breaking them are increased.

Today begged the question: how much longer can we handle this?

And how different might we be once it has passed?

We line up in spirals now, 1.5m apart.

The older you are, the more likely it is that you’re shielded by gloves and a mask.

We skirt around the edges of one another.

Attendants offer sanitising wipes with big smiles and we all pretend it’s normal.

The air is clean but riddled with distrust.

This virus might be even worse for our brains than it is for our lungs.

The credits at the end of a film are acknowledgement of the hard work done to put the film together. Most of us barely ever read them… But they’re there.

I think it’s important for us to think about how we’re going to acknowledge the front line workers who are seeing us though this time.

Live every film, this pandemic will eventually come to an end. When it does, let’s consider how we might honour those who put in the hard work to keep us all together.

The hardest thing about having ADHD medication is remembering to take your ADHD medication, and days tend to pan out differently when I don’t.

When these days start to snowball, I sometimes hit a slump: the blog posts become short and unremarkable; I have no interest in being around other people; I’m more vulnerable to snacking, on dopaminergic foods as well as activities (read: video games); and I just generally become less fun to be around.

In all honesty, this truth is a scary one. I don’t plan on taking this stuff forever, but for the moment it’s the best tool at my disposal.

Days like this make it hard to see the forrest through the trees.

There is currently a cruise ship docked in Fremantle.

On board are a number of people suffering from COVID-19. Also aboard the ship are people who wish to return to their homes and families.

Naturally, many West Australians aren’t stoked about this. The interests of the ship’s inhabitants pose a serious health risk to our community, and a plan needs to be developed to address it.

The point where I stop understanding this conflict is the point at which rational concern turns into vehement hatred.

It’s when the front cover of our newspaper displays a man on board, middle finger extended to the helicopter filming him from the sky.

Why is it that as soon as we have a team, a side, or a line in the sand it becomes acceptable to discard our humanity?

The people on that boat are fighting the same thing we’re fighting; the enemy of our enemy is our friend.

We ought to act accordingly.

What do we need? What can we go without, just for a little while?

Do we need go be congregating at mass on Bondi Beach?

How essential was that trip to the shopping centre?

Would it really be that inconvenient for most of us to work from home?

Are there opportunities we’re missing out on because of how we’re reacting to this thing?

What questions can we ask ourselves which will positivly change our actions tomorrow?

Let’s ask them.

We’ve been meaning to start a veggie patch for a little while now, but the back of our unit is paved end to end in red suburban bricks. Today, I finally cleared the space to make it happen.

Which left me asking the question: what can I actually grow here?

The fences around our house create a lot of shade, so the plot is going to be comprised mainly of leafy vegetables and herbs;

  • spinach thrives in part sun when grown in Australia’s warm climate. It benefits from loose, nitrogen rich soil;
  • basil enjoys a little more sun than spinach moist, neutral PH soil. Basil plants should be watered whenever their topsoil is dry to the touch;
  • rooting vegetables like potatoes can also be handy additions to shady gardens. Potatoes prefer a lot of sun (despite growing underground), but can be grown in shade as the cost of some crop yield;
  • peas can be grown in shady gardens, but need plenty of room underneath the ground to anchor the plant. They don’t like nitrogen rich soil, so they’ll be going on opposite sides of the garden;
  • garlic can be grown in partial shade and thrives when planted deep in neutral PH soil, making it an ideal neighbour to basil;
  • onion can be grown in part shade,
  • finally, I eat so many cherry tomatoes that if I’m going to grow anything, I have to find a way to grow them too. Our garden bed isn’t going to give them the sun they need, so the plan is to pot some of these guys and move them around to make sure they get as much sun as possible throughout different times of year;
  • … same goes for chilli. If for some reason I can’t get out to the shops, I’ve got to have chilli.

That’s it. I’ll likely do a post with some pictures once the garden is all set up. For now, we just have to plan a socially distanced trip to Bunnings; we were running low on toilet paper anyway.

It’s okay to feel exhausted at the moment. Many of us are. Ironically, lots of people finally have the time to start the projects they’ve been dreaming about, and none of the energy required to develop any momentum.

I’m in that camp too.

Tomorrow, if you’re in that camp with me, let’s find an hour to dedicate solely to the project we most want to align ourselves with.

An hour with no distractions, no excuses and no procrastination.

It’s likely that we’re going to have a lot more time on our hands over the next six months.

A single hour tomorrow, no more and no less, might just be the push we need to get the ball rolling.

There will be a day when it’s okay to hug our friends again.

Another when the shelves are stocked full with toilet paper.

And our hospitals are comfortably within capacity.

Soon enough.