Kids sense of time is unique. Minding child A and child B yesterday I was surrounded by their rogue estimations of how long it would take to reach various desirable locations (namely 'the green', 'the park' and--most importantly--'the shop') each they assured me were, at most, "two minutes away" (Fifteen minutes and counting). I was satiated however by a brownie which Child A easily convinced me into buying once we reached one of these locations. It was to be a secret, I warned her, and best if she did not tell her mother or her brother about the pre-dinner death by chocolate. I am in cahoots with a 9 year old: the adult who can resist everything except temptation.
Temptation seems the operative word of this lockdown 3. One worrying temptation is that of looking at my own face during zoom meetings. Despite the colourful checkerboard of interesting faces to lock eyes on, I am consistently drawn to my own. Never before has my own face been so familiar to me; looking at myself in the bathroom mirror was not an activity I exhausted much time on prior to the apparent narcissism of lockdown.
This darling period of pandemonia is often cited to hold the silver lining of promoting better 'self-awareness'. With all this new found 'time' (for the lucky few) it's possible to 'get to know oneself' by partaking in emotional activities such as reading, walks in nature and meditation. The most, I feel, that I have 'got to know' of myself is that my skin is in need of a good exfoliation and my ability to keep composure throughout zooms is lacking. I was questioned on a recent virtual class about my 'shocked' face--perhaps I had just discovered a new blackhead? I am in awe of anyone with a poker face for I do not possess one. Lady Gaga must be great at the bloomin' zoomin'.
Some wholesome activity is definitely being partaken in however: The gift that keeps on giving, that is my new flatmate, continues to enhance my culinary education through dishes such as wholewheat spaghetti with homemade walnut pesto, scrambled tofu with homemade baked beans and, my personal favourite, french toast (eggy bread) served with yoghurt, berries and peanut butter.
It is my turn to cook tonight and the temptation to call deliveroo is real.
This frenzy of good cooking and food is in response to our collective feeling of 'students working to deadlines'. We are both feeling the heat of multiple grants applications, lessons to plan, presentations to prep and meetings to blag. No longer a student, not yet an adult. Our constant companion through these dilemmas is, of course, chocolate. We are delighted to have discovered a bar which has the noble aim of ending slavery in the chocolate industry. Devoured square by square, we change the world slowly but surely through our indulgence: passivism at its finest.
Oh how do we know we're doing it right?
xoxo asking for a friend
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