Unintentionally, today ended up being a fix stuff around the house kind of day. I was planning to take it easy and get some writing done, so maybe this was me avoiding writing when my house is already pretty clean. But honestly, it felt really good to do. I had a light fixture falling a bit out of the wall, which I got back into place using a madison strip. And then I had a big crack in a different wall (which I accidentally caused with my sit-stand desk… long story) and I got that spackled and painted.
I’m not a big home improvement guy. Most of the time, I am well aware that I am not The Guy and I need to find The Guy and pay them to fix the thing that’s gone wrong in my house. But I can spackle, goddammit, and I can paint. And apparently I can stick a Madison strip in the wall after I’ve watched a sufficient number of YouTube videos.
There’s a tiny bit of magic in fixing a small thing. Even if at the time you’re sweating into your eyes and wish you could just figure out why the fucking screw isn’t going in properly. Maybe it’s a way to exert control over your environment, similar to cleaning and organizing. At least when it’s something small and manageable like this, rather than soul-destroying like drilling out a broken fence post so you can set a new one. And right now, I think I needed something that would let me feel like I had even a little control over my surroundings… since right now I seem to be drifting back into my bad old habit of sleep procrastination, something I’ve classically done when I don’t feel like I have control over anything else.
Though at least this time I can say I’m not sleep procrastinating because I hate my job. I do hate being trapped in my house because of a pandemic–and all the other shitfuckery going on out there–and I know I’m not the only one. I can’t do anything about these things except phone calls and letters, and I’ve already done those. Doomscrolling Twitter doesn’t actually accomplish anything. It’s made it difficult for me to write, if I’m being honest, because I’m just so damn tired all the time–and sometimes tired means actually tired, and sometimes tired actually means depressed.
So today I fixed a light fixture and I spackled a wall. They weren’t big things, or urgent things, but my house is just a little bit nicer because of something I’ve done. Tomorrow, I’ll bake a loaf of bread for my housemate and I to enjoy for the week, and my house is going to smell lovely. For today, that’s enough.