Quarantine Files – On adaptation and atrophy

It’s been a long couple of days – though things are looking up now that the end’s in sight. Was told that ‘Hey, this is the weekend and you’re usually at home during the weekends’ and while this is true, I usually do step out of the flat a couple of times a day. One really doesn’t appreciate how much just stepping outdoors means until one’s stuck indoors for a long time. And in the grand scheme of things, four days isn’t a really long time either.

One adapts and I guess that’s one ability that we has humans have perfected to an art. Just as I took a while to adapt back to the pace of life (and work) back home, so did I have to quickly adapt to the fact that I was facing 7 days of life at home without any recourse to the outside. It meant changing the pace with which I normally do things – the lack of a commute to work meant that I could start getting things done earlier. I had all the comforts of home and could choose to rest anytime I liked, though the weather seemed to thwart all attempts at afternoon naps for the past couple of days. I had more time to think, read and generally take things easy as I was supposed to be recuperating from as serious bout of the flu. The ability to kick back and relax a little after the pretty hectic couple of months was good but one always would prefer to have these on one’s own terms but I guess one cannot really complain.

The adaptation didn’t quite come easy – while I do like to spend time at home, not being able to go out of the flat was a bit of a stretch. The other bad thing about this was the fact that as I recover from the flu, I get much more energetic and want to do more with myself than just sit, read and think. The bicycles hang by the window almost taunting me in their languor. My running shoes smirk on the shelves. At the same time, my knees and calves begin aching from lack of use as the most strenuous things I do is to hike the 15 metres from my room to the kitchen to refill my flagon of water (which isn’t very often given the size of the flagon).

So as my mind wanders to far off vistas that no other mind has ever beheld and my muscles atrophy into little twiggy shadows of their former selves, one wonders how much quarantine it takes for people to fall into bouts of hyperbole.

Either the medicines or my lack of outdoor time is making me loopy. Either way, I believe I’m getting a little loopier than normal. Which may not be a bad thing.

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1 Response to “Quarantine Files – On adaptation and atrophy”



  1. 1 Posts about Getting Things Done as of July 4, 2009 | GTDThings.com Trackback on 5 July 2009 at 5:02 05

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about the brushhead

had a head like a brush (it's more like an egg now). seeks to sweep through thought and faith with that brush. tries to wax philosophical but often forgets to wax off. trying to be good brush to all, while discerning what kind of brush he's meant to be.

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