Cabin Fever in Melbourne Lockdown
![Image](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIY_MTQyGFbzWT5plDk4nVlLxG9GvT5Cdefph3gdOWsGxcyAbRq1RFJsTlaFa50BJkP4Z4-OZBSaCddHBnjHRp3gyDLNwh7W8eJm2DXkFavXK_0RH9amf7aeJNhbpGI69hf0WKFqfUQ8Nv/s320/Dan+meme.png)
Sunday night, I sat swearing at the News. I didn't care about Trump. I didn't care about Australian politicians having intimate relationships–seriously, who does? All I wanted to see was news that we Melbournians can be released from our stage four lockdown prisons. When that news didn't arrive my resilience began to plummet. The next day, I was so distracted that I accidentally brushed my teeth with the grout-cleaning toothbrush. Although I went on to have a productive day, anxiety snapped at my heels like a feral dog. I was bitching and moaning about every little thing. It wore me down. By Tuesday, I knew as soon as I opened my eyes that it wasn't going to be a good day. Time slowed down so that one hour felt like four. Everything annoyed me. Activities which I happily enjoyed over the past week suddenly held no interest for me. I didn't want to play piano. I didn't want to go for a walk. I didn't want to do yoga or dance. I didn't even want to heat up