It’s 2020 and I believe everyone is trying to cling on to the remnants of their sanity. Yesterday I made a vow to curtail my chocolate addiction a smudge – possibly fuelled by marathon watchings of ‘The Bachelorette’. I then however found myself actually exclaiming “HAHA!” when spotting the little Guylian cocoa sea creatures at Sainsbury’s (true story). They naturally ended up in my shopping trolley and were consumed while watching another episode of ‘The Bachelorette’.
Is this ‘love in the time of corona’? Love in the time of the 21st century to be honest wasn’t much more satisfying. (At least someone out there is being wooed by 31 eligible bachelors!) Meanwhile in London, me and my fellow bachelorettes (the non-famous kind) are trying to navigate the murky waters of the online dating sea – given that in times of pandemic there aren’t many other ways to communicate with the opposite sex (or same sex, depending on what you’re into) that don’t involve fake tripping on the street in an attempt to hold onto a man’s biceps. Or puppy. To be fair, I’d settle for a puppy.
If dating is the sea, then I am currently stuck somewhere deep in the Atlantic, the middle bit between the continents where nobody really knows what’s going on anymore, trying to navigate its huge waves in a dinghy. Wikipedia says a dinghy is “a type of small boat, often carried or towed by a larger vessel for use as a lifeboat or tender.” I am all too familiar with larger vessels that have attempted to use me as a lifeboat. And while I am sturdy, my risk of sinking increases if you throw too much baggage on me! (Or if the kraken entangles itself in your rudder.)
Those who have fought off the kraken get to row a bit further, sporting their battle scars, and may encounter another infamous sight on the wild sea: the ghost ship. A ghost ship (otherwise described as a phantom ship – I can’t decide which term I like better) appears very impressive from afar. You may even get excited at the prospect of it floating towards you. Soon however you realise that it is actually an empty vessel without any vital signs on board. A drifter, with its crew missing or dead. Of course you have spotted this too late, the ship slams into your dinghy and now you’ve got a leak!
To prevent yourself going under, you try to fix the leak using anything you can find: the fifth chocolate cookie you definitely didn’t need, an entire season of ‘Selling Sunset’ on Netflix (why am I watching this crap? It’s not even about the houses anymore!), an overly vigorous attempt to run away from the ghost with the help of a treadmill, which mainly results in a limp. If you aren’t fast enough, you take on a little too much water and temporarily submerge. You must then quickly rid yourself of any extra baggage to stay afloat: self-doubt, your mother’s voice in your head, the internet.
The good thing about ghost ships is that they disappear as fast as they appear. Your first encounter with a ghost ship is the worst as you are full of hope at the sign of life, a fancy boat floating in the distance. You excitedly row your little dinghy towards it, only to be left with a nasty scratch on your floatation device. Now you are prepared for the next ‘phantom’ you come across and have wrapped your life vest around your head to cushion a possible impact. Apart from a mild concussion, you are fine. Slightly dead on the inside, but fine.
At this point, you’re not even really waiting for a multi-million dollar yacht anymore. Not even a Carnival Cruise ship that may spot you in the waters and could throw you a rope. You’d be ok with a dory, a drift boat even. But you’ve also gotten quite used to your dinghy, find the various injuries it has sustained somewhat charming, have learnt to swim without a life vest and now know how to breathe underwater.
Who needed sanity anyways. If anyone is looking for me, I am having a cookie in my dinghy.
Mimi's Musings. 