I know it's been a month. I'm supposed to be proof reading my sister's novel. I want to sew instead. I spent more time at my aunt's. I'd rather be anywhere but there. I've been baking.

Mostly I'm just tired. Yes, I'm tired of the coronavirus, as is everyone else, but that I can handle. Masks don't bother me as they're just a necessary part of the foreseeable future. What's getting to me is my life on hold outside of the coronavirus. I sleep 10-12 hours a night but mustering up energy to do anything is a pain. Literally. My knees have been killing me for months and seem to divide time between painfully hyperextending and sounding like popcorn whenever they bend, so walking or even getting up from a chair (or god forbid the floor) is something I have to work up to or brace myself on a nearby surface to do.

Add that to the general malaise of having my life imploded at a time when it's impossible to talk it out with a therapist or deal with it in any type of healthy way and it just compounds. I don't want to talk. I don't want to think. I don't want things to continue this way but I'm stuck and being pushed further into a corner in terms of my lease renewal coming up in a few months with no direction indicated as to where things seem to be going except from bad to worse.

Like many others I am so over 2020. I'm just hoping for something positive, but that hope is dwindling. This sucks.