This has definitely become a sleep blog… Last night I couldn’t sleep, and then woke up early and couldn’t get back to sleep. Possibly the room was too cold, unless coming off olanzapine is already having an effect. I got just under six hours sleep, which isn’t bad, even if it contrasts weirdly with the eleven or twelve hours I’ve been getting the previous few nights.
The Tube was empty this morning. Tottenham Court Road Station was utterly deserted at 9.00am. I’ve seen busier stations in the middle of the night. New Year’s Eve in a plague city. Work was quiet and we left before 4pm. The roads were empty. That said, people have been firing off fireworks since 6.00pm, and non-stop for the last three quarters of an hour or so, which undermines the “plague city” feeling a bit. Are people that optimistic about 2021? Or are they symbolically blowing up 2020?
In late 1945, George Orwell said he would make the worst possible prediction for 1946: the new year would be just like the old one. (I would have thought 1945 was a good year overall, with the most destructive conflict in human history ending, but I suppose there was the arrival of the atom bomb which terrified everyone more than we remember, and the fact that Britain finished the war more or less bankrupt, with food shortages that lasted for years afterwards.) I suppose I feel a bit like that.
My 2020, as I’ve noted before, was better than a lot of people’s and I feel vaguely embarrassed about that. Mum got cancer, but she was cured too. I self-published a non-fiction book (I might even have sold copies to people I don’t know if I had the money to pay for advertising on Amazon) and wrote a hefty chunk of my first novel. I ended up in a relationship which didn’t work out, but afterwards in one that so far is working out. I worked in January, was unemployed for most of the year (which turned out for the best as I was able to help Mum) and then found some kind of work at the end of the year. It’s not ideal and I don’t know how long it will last, but it’s a job, which is precious at the moment. To be honest, finding a job in COVID times feels like Yitzchak (Isaac) sowing and reaping a hundredfold during a famine.
The Talmud says “Let the old year and its curses go out, and let the new year and its blessings come in!” That’s talking about Jewish New Year, but I’ve been thinking about it recently. I don’t believe things are magically going to get better in 2021, but hopefully they will get marginally better, even if it’s just the beginning of the end of the pandemic. Who knows?
I don’t usually celebrate New Years Eve. My parents usually go to friends, but they obviously couldn’t do that this year, so we bought takeaway and played board games: The London Game, which involves travelling around London on the Tube getting to various destinations, and Schools Out! which involves travelling around school, collecting books. To be honest, they were similar, although the former had an element of skill (which I lacked) and the latter was mostly luck. Dad won both. We had a good time.
I feel a bit peopled out now and slightly down, so I’m probably going to go to bed soon.