By Maxine Pollock, TIWP Student
I can’t write anything today. I feel like someone has squeezed all of the creative juices out of me and now I’m just a shell. I keep trying to fill myself up in different ways. Most nights it’s staying up extremely late (or early if you want to look at it that way) watching Netflix. During the day I’m attempting to build a puzzle except it is of the ocean and all the pieces are the same color. There are so many half-completed projects of mine scattered around the house. So many half embarked-on journeys that I can’t bring myself to finish. I’m not sure how to sit down and write stories about a magical land or a strong heroin when my mind keeps spiraling with worst case scenarios. That’s all that anyone seems to want to think about now. What’s the LONGEST we will be quarantined in our homes? What’s the MOST number of people that could die? But the scariest thing is that no one has those answers. We are just expected to stay at home and entertain ourselves for an unknown period of time. I don’t do well with uncertainty. I like to plan and be prepared but when your life has been flipped upside down and brought to a halt, there isn’t much to prepare you for the hours of boredom and the tears spilled thinking about what could have been. So I’m sorry, but I can’t write today.