The New Leaf #22 - Like water feeling its way over an edge
jessicafurseth.substack.com
Hi, and welcome to the twenty-second instalment of The New Leaf, an informal and infrequent email bulletin with the things I’ve been writing and reading lately. *** It's March again, although in many ways it's March still, and we're all thoroughly humbled by this ordeal. We've been saying "let's catch up as soon as we can" for months now, while swapping recommendations for books (if your attention span isn't on the fritz; mine is), TV shows (the longer the better) and podcasts (random, weird stuff only please). It's not that we are bored of other people - we are bored of ourselves, and having to spend all day every day in our own heads here in the pandemic groundhog day. I feel like I keep saying the same things over and over - like how now it's week ... 11 of Lockdown 3 here in the UK, and at the 16-week mark we will hopefully get to stand *outside* a pub and have a drink together. I am looking forward to that moment with the feverish excitement of a child at Christmas. I want to see my friends of course, but also, I want to do all those city things we've not been able to for so long. I want to have a conversation with a person I've never met before and not worry about them standing too close to me. I want to squeeze past people to get to the bar, smelling the beer and the perfume and the sweat and the early evening air. I want a benign stranger to put their hand on my shoulder as they pass behind me in the crowd, gently letting me know they're there.
The New Leaf #22 - Like water feeling its way over an edge
The New Leaf #22 - Like water feeling its way…
The New Leaf #22 - Like water feeling its way over an edge
Hi, and welcome to the twenty-second instalment of The New Leaf, an informal and infrequent email bulletin with the things I’ve been writing and reading lately. *** It's March again, although in many ways it's March still, and we're all thoroughly humbled by this ordeal. We've been saying "let's catch up as soon as we can" for months now, while swapping recommendations for books (if your attention span isn't on the fritz; mine is), TV shows (the longer the better) and podcasts (random, weird stuff only please). It's not that we are bored of other people - we are bored of ourselves, and having to spend all day every day in our own heads here in the pandemic groundhog day. I feel like I keep saying the same things over and over - like how now it's week ... 11 of Lockdown 3 here in the UK, and at the 16-week mark we will hopefully get to stand *outside* a pub and have a drink together. I am looking forward to that moment with the feverish excitement of a child at Christmas. I want to see my friends of course, but also, I want to do all those city things we've not been able to for so long. I want to have a conversation with a person I've never met before and not worry about them standing too close to me. I want to squeeze past people to get to the bar, smelling the beer and the perfume and the sweat and the early evening air. I want a benign stranger to put their hand on my shoulder as they pass behind me in the crowd, gently letting me know they're there.