I tested positive for covid today.

I don’t feel too bad, though I am distinctly sick—it’s more of a bummer because it puts paid to all my weekend plans, and my plans for the day today.

So, today I had nothing required of me at all except to stay at home and not infect anybody else. I always feel unsettled when I have days like that—with no demands on my time, nowhere specific I need to be. It always feels like I’m not doing enough, no matter how much I do, and I always try to reach some ideal form of bliss with this incredible amount of open time I have available.

The difficulty comes from two things: one, that I’m trying to achieve two opposite ends—both trying to be supremely restful and joyous with my time, and also to be perfectly productive and get things done which I’ve been meaning to do—and two, that I’m seeking perfection in either of these areas.

I want to both relax and do nothing, and also accomplish everything I can think of. To watch three movies, and to catch up on work.

I’m getting better at letting the day be what it is, and not trying to ask for too much from it. I’m proud of myself today for going on three different walks, one of them just completed.

The park was beautiful and cold and still. Incredibly still, in the winter air. I loved it.

I’ll go back tomorrow.