• Kate O'Connor

Dear 2020... You Suck

It's been over 6 months since my last post. And I call myself a writer! Ridiculous, right? However, I think we can all be forgiven for not really living up to our full potentials during the bullshit that has been the first 6 months of 2020. I'm not sure what we as a global population did to deserve being subjected to Covid-19 while still having to put up with Trump, but I suggest everyone apologises immediately with all the strength and sincerity they can muster, because I am 100% over this crap.

So where have I been? What have I been up to? Surely with all the isolation and restrictions and working from home rules, I must've written several bestsellers by now, right? Wrong! I have been doing what so much of the world has been doing: binge-eating bad foods, binge-watching bad TV, and binge-whinging about all the stupidity that the various News channels bring into our homes on an hourly basis through various means. I'm not getting into world politics. I figure it's way too early in my career (is it a career yet?) to be spouting off about my ideas and opinions. But I have been watching and keeping up, and hurting with the rest of the world. I've been angry, sad, happy, devastated and beyond furious. Usually every day. Good thing I've always been an emotional wreck, so I'm used to the rollercoaster. A more stable person may have struggled.

I've been lucky enough to be able to keep working full-time from home. Things have quietened down a lot, but there is enough still happening to keep me in a job, so I'm very grateful for that.

All the while though, something has been missing. I've been uneasy, discontent, looking for more than what I have. A week or so ago, I started listening to podcasts again, and then audiobooks. And then it hit me: writing. Why wasn't I writing? I had the time. I felt unhappy and unfulfilled most days. I wasn't achieving anything, because I wasn't sure what I wanted to achieve. And then a little voice in the back of my brain reminded me that I wanted to be an author. That I had a website, a blog. Readers (or I used to!). It said "Remember last year, when you developed the website, and you started blogging, and submitting pieces for publication? Remember how happy you were then? How watching the visitor counter to your website increase made you feel like you were finally working towards your dream? Yeah, what happened with all that?" And of course I had to face the fact that I had gotten in my own way once again. Laziness, unwillingness, uncertainty, doubt. All of it had hit me like a sledgehammer somewhere in the last quarter of last year and I quit again. Today I find myself wondering where this site would be now if I'd persevered. But I know that is just a one-way thought back to uncertainty and doubt and eventually laziness and unwillingness. Looking back is only good if 1) the memories are pleasant, or 2) there is a lesson to be learned. I think I can learn the lesson without looking back too much. I have a tendency to get stuck in the past. I'd like to change that too.

So I truly hope I see you right here again tomorrow, and the day after that. Bring a friend, bring a snack, hell you can even bring a book if my writing doesn't tickle your pickle. Just come back.


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