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I had a dream that I was going bald. I have always assumed there was no chance of that happening as my hair keeps growing like a Triffid in a pandemic (and could also blind you if I flicked it across your face), but I also didn’t think it would bother me if it happened. It bothered me. Or at least the dream me. Who I think is still me.
It was a relief to wake up and discover I still had the thick mane of hair that allows me to fool myself that I am not a middle-aged man, even if the whiteness of the follicles keeps giving me away when I try to go on Club 18-30 holidays.
Dreams are getting weirder and more horrible in lock-down for lots of people and there have been more disturbing ones than this involving violent things happening to those I love the most. I probably need to employ that guy with a technicolored dream coat to work out what it’s all about.
Little things break through to make us smile. I made pancakes for breakfast which is always fun anyway. My daughter thinks maple syrup is called April syrup and as a consequence this is what we not all call it (even though it’s now May) and we presumably will forever. What I like about my kids thinking maple syrup is called April syrup is that maple syrup isn’t something that they will encounter very often and there’s a very good chance that they may carry this on forever (especially if we start covering up the label) and then when they’re about 25 they will suggest getting some April syrup for their pancakes and all their friends will laugh at them and their partners will break up with them for being such idiots.
Fingers crossed.
Even with pancakes with April syrup and bacon it was the lowest day yet for me, just in terms of exhaustion and torpor. But we took things relatively easy and covered for each other when we really needed solitude and though I really wanted to go to bed the minute the kids were in bed (and fell asleep on the sofa for half an hour) we were playing games online with our neighbours again and I am glad I didn’t duck out of it (as all good sense had been telling me to do). I had a couple of beers and some hysterical laughs about dumb answers to silly list games and somehow that made me feel like things weren’t so bad after all.
Hopefully we’ve flattened the curve on the graph of lowness of spirits. But it’s OK to have a dip and it would be weird if it didn’t happen. Of course we are amongst the luckiest people in the world and have remained healthy as have those closest to us, but there’s no need to feel too guilty for being blue even when fortune has shined on you. This is an enormously stressful experience for all of us. It’s not a competition. Acknowledge how mentally draining it is, tell people if you are feeling bad - you’ll probably realise that it is’t that bad after all (unless it really is, but then talking about it is still the best way to go). Of course you’re feeling stressed. I know my hair has been falling out, if only in my dreams (it’s OK Joseph, I worked it out without your help - can I have my deposit back?).
I know that if I can get a bit more sleep then I will be fine. Though it does increase the likelihood of me having horrible dreams.
