Only the Lazy: Contributing bits each day
I've been slack. I hate this feeling. The existential guilt that comes with freelancing - do more. Be more. Earn more.
After the complete disaster that was the end of UK 2020, I've been thrown into Tenerife with
no plans, no job, no one. After BoJo's sweeping declaration that international flights will be
banned from the 5th of November (a lifetime ago), I was on the phone, digging into my wallet, and figuring out how to get out.
No more Greece, booked accommodation, balkans, budget or boyfriend.
I reflect on the things I do in manic survival mode and wonder what is even going through my head at that point. It's all I focus on, getting back on my feet, earning money, escaping.
It was a common reaction from my friends when I said I was heading off. Maybe a sense of denial from us all, that it was now coming thick and fast. I was almost prepared. The last few days I tried to get rid of the last of my possessions, whilst juggling cafe dates. There was no time for nights out. Not like we could, anyway.
I've been in Tenerife now for two weeks and for the most part, it's been a great experience. The weather has been fantastic, I've been joined by old friends and met a bunch of new ones. Lying on the beach, swimming in the ocean, for the first time in over a year.
But, I'm stressed. As long as I can earn money, I'll be fine. But my client posts are getting deleted, I need specific set ups for online jobs, and I'm unmotivated. I haven't been able to write in weeks.
I resort back to the only thing that you can say to yourself when you're thrown into an uneasy, unsettled situation:
"Just do a little bit, everyday"
If you're opening your computer daily, putting yourself out there, something will come through. It can be 20 minutes, it can be 8 hours. It can come down to saving posts, writing, looking. Just do something.
It's Friday the 13th, and ironically, I'm feeling lucky. I've found an apartment today in Los Cristianos - there's about 6 vegan restaurants nearby. The flat itself is nothing fancy - but it'll do. A private space, some breathing room. A chance to build a routine again. I've booked it for three weeks with Ella - pretty much my carbon copy, but Swedish.
Sitting in the bar next door, I'm on my third coffee whilst I wait for her to return from her surfing lesson. I'm running out of steam to continue, but I've forced myself to do my little bits. One of them being a blog entry.
'Complete this, and you can relax'.
And you know what, I think it is done. Who knows. Like we said, nothing's ever finished.