Still Hanging In There
A small film to mark the 2nd anniversary of the working from holes and the first anniversary of Hanging In There.
So. Here we are then.
Two years later.
730 days.
24 months.
104 weeks.
17520 hours.
Since the world stopped and changed and we moved indoors and in front of screens.
This time last year I was depressed.
Really sad.
Down.
This time last year, I'd not seen my kids for a year.
I've seen them now, though—my beautiful, smart daughters.
This time last year, I was in my office at home, and my wife was at her home office on the kitchen table.
Then things got a little better, didn't they. Vaccinations! Lateral flow tests!
Summer came, with warm evenings and big open spaces. We got outside: for a brief moment of time, we stopped "hanging in there", and started to live a little - cautiously, carefully... foolishly start to live a little.
I rented a studio. A proper studio! A place for people to come, now that the worst of it was done: a place to play, work, and have fun - a place to get the good stuff done.
It has a river out the back. A stream. It has fish in it. On those warm summer days, I would sit out there... out back and watch the sun tickle the surface of the water.
There was a sense of hope—a feeling of momentum.
Hell, we even got a holiday in!
Then autumn came, then winter came, and the nights got dark, and the numbers got high and, once more, we were sent back to our work from home holes.
But Christmas happened! There was, at least that.
But this winter felt different, right? Dark, but not as bleak. All boosted up, we looked to the spring and the hope that, somewhere two years down the line, the shit show would finally be over.
Everyone's going to get it, right? It's just a matter of time; we'd just as well come to terms with it, get on with it - hurry up, it's time.
The clock is ticking. This is it, I thought - this is the year 2022 - the breakthrough year! No more, moping around this is the year of the do.
This is my "YOU" year.
Forget that "what could have been year"
twenty-twenty-two because
this is "my future is here year".
But here we are.
Two years later.
730 days.
24 months.
104 weeks.
17520 hours.
March 11th 2022.
One Pandemic, four lock downs 3 variants
and 1 brand new fucking war... and we're still hanging in