I opened my closet this morning and decided that I hate all my clothes. I’m tired of the ones I’ve been wearing around the house for a year and a half, and they’re shabby, faded, washed too many times. The ones I haven’t been wearing belong to a previous life, and they look strange. 

Is that sweater/skirt/pair of jeans still me? Your clothes are supposed to be you. If you’ve bought what you like and find useful, presumably you’ve got a closet full of clothes that are appropriate to the way you live.

How am I going to live going forward? What will I need to wear?

Here we are as the pandemic eases, but isn’t over yet. New variants. Who said “variants” two years ago? Who is this person staring into my closet who now says “variants” so knowledgeably? What does she wear? In order to do what? What does she/do I want to do in the months and years ahead? Presuming the variants don’t etc.

I got an email this morning from a film producer who mentioned how busy he is again. “What happened to the slow days of the pandemic?” he writes. “Am I being pandemic nostalgic?”

I’m busy, too. I was busy throughout the first year and a half of the pandemic, largely working on projects I wanted to work on, including but not limited to writing, organizing my life, mentoring on zoom and playing computer solitaire. Also cooking and cleaning, but I’m as sick of that as I am of my clothes. 

Not to be pandemic nostalgic, but what do I want to keep from this time? 

I keep asking the question because I’m not sure. 

I don’t want the life I led beforehand, which involved being too busy. But now that I’ve started to add in things we can do under eased restrictions, I’m already too busy again. Last week, I had four different social things, dinner or afternoon drinks, all people I was over-the-moon to see. Next week, I start playing hockey again (although it’s very likely I’ll fall flat on my face the moment I step on the ice). Add this to the pandemic projects I’m still working on and the burble of marketing that’s already started for a novel I’ve got coming out this fall, Time Squared, and I’m getting that familiar feeling of slipping seriously behind. 

I hate that feeling as much as I hate my old clothes.

What stays? What goes? How do you pace yourself? (Which I’ve never been good at.) 

Wearing what?

At most of last week’s social gatherings, people wore what they’ve been wearing around the house. No dress-up. Maybe that’s gone? By holding my nose and wearing something I haven’t worn in ages—and jewelry! I wore jewelry!—I felt as if I was wearing the wrong clothes. I also didn’t care, and wondered when the Diabetes Clothesline donation truck would appear at my door again. Also if they have anywhere to sell all the old clothes that everybody’s sick of, and what I’m going to do with mine if no one wants them. Presuming I can decide what to get rid of.

How to live your life. Balance. Pacing. Being kind is always good, including to yourself.

Since I haven’t had to balance things for a while, it feels as if the next phase of life is going to involve being very bad at it. Probably even worse than before.

I like what I was doing during the pandemic. I like what I accomplished. I also like seeing my friends, getting proper exercise, going out to concerts, art galleries, shows that may re-open before too long. Bars, museums. Travel?

My only hope is that during this next phase, I can finally get my pacing right for the first time in forever, and decide, at least, what I don’t want to do. 

In the meantime, I closed the closet and ordered some new underwear. 

Update: you can get Time Squared here.