I was MIA again and I guess it’s now too late to say happy new year. Maybe I’m getting old, or maybe it was because of the whole pandemic thing. But I let the festivities slip away. I didn’t even listen to Christmas music.

It’s so not me, but there’s nothing to celebrate anyway. Maybe except for being healthy and alive. Other than that it’s same old. We’re under lockdown again. Everywhere is deserted because people are afraid to go out. The government is useless as usual. The future is still unknown. Everything is like last year. Even new normal has become old now.

I finished all my obligations before Christmas all right. I thought it was time to relax. I’d gotten back to swimming a while back and was looking forward to more of it because it was so good for my mental health. But then we were hit with a new wave of Covid-19 like everywhere else in the world.

Social distancing and staying home is fine by me since I’m a writer and I don’t need to go out anyway. But it’s depressing knowing that most people are struggling to make ends meet. That’s one of the reasons I don’t feel very productive.

I’m going to take things slow this year. I’ve been overworked for a long, long time. It’s time to stop that before it’s too late. I won’t be doing much this month. But hopefully I get to work on some poetry soon.

The pandemic is probably making everyone’s life difficult right now, but if you’re reading this, I hope you’re doing well.

Stay safe, guys.

— Petra