I'm in a bit of a funk today. I don't mean I've been doing jazz moves round the kitchen. I mean I've been gloomy - all day.
I dislike it. I have to lock myself away, just to stop snapping at people for no reason - and at the best of times, the isolation of that moment doesn't do me much good. When I'm already marooned, up here like a sort of nerdy Robinson Crusoe, in the middle of the pandemic ocean, the situation is a lot worse.
To make matters... funnier, today someone asked me today whether I'd do a short talk on 'coping with insecurity'. Of all the people to ask: the neurotic, over-sensitive, constant comparator who feels out of place in his own home! I laughed, but I also said I'd do it, pledging to talk about my own struggles with that particular thing, how it trips me up and how I deal with that. It's all on Zoom; it'll be grand.
It's raining again. It's a kind of late-night downpour, spattering against the windows and wobbling the lamplight.
You know, at the end of the story, Robinson Crusoe trades places with some mutineers and sails back to England, to a normal life. I know this funk won't last forever, even if I can't quite figure out what caused it.
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