The Normality of Hope...

The word normal means 'conforming to the standard or the common type.' Thank you, Ms Dictionary. But this is a subjective and changing standard. It doesn't explain how that standard is reached, or to whom it applies. A more user-friendly definition could be something like, normal is what you know. It's what is standard for you personally. My experience of normal is very different from yours, just as yours is from mine. And when an aspect of your life isn't the average, the mainstream, the standard, then the word normal is proved utterly pointless time and time again. Whether it's being a woman in a world that defaults to male terminology, or being left-handed and walking into a college computer suite to find every mouse plugged in on the right side, (true story!) or being a Person of Colour, LGBTQIA, disabled in an ableist world, secular in a religious family, religious in a secular world; whatever reality a person experiences on a day to day basis, normal is a word that helps no one. There is no baseline for normal, no control group. Like I said, normal is what you know.

Yet despite all that, yesterday I found myself uttering the phrase, 'Last week felt like it was back to normal.' I didn't even do air quotes. I meant it for realsies. I used the word normal to describe my week, when A) we've already decided that normal is a pointless word, and B) last week was random and weird, and totally unlike the way my life used to be. But still. I said it. Last week felt like it was back to normal. 

Costa: Always there to
break up the monotony.

In the olden times, my week was fairly set. Let me outline my timetable!

Monday - Work from home. 

Tuesday - Work in the office. 

Wednesday - Go to WW, (that’s Weight Watchers in old money) do some food shopping, and then spend the afternoon batch cooking. 

Thursday - Work in the office.

Friday  - Work from home. 

It sounds as dull as it probably was, had I stuck to it like glue. To liven things up, I’d throw in an hour or two at Costa for their WiFi, or I’d go for a walk after a few hours with my laptop. It was a productive, run of the mill, and pleasant enough working week before throwing into the mix, a weekend of alcohol, food, people, more walks, and, of course, roast potatoes. Simple pleasures.

 

Here’s my confusion. When I said last week felt normal, none of these things happened. Not like that, anyway. There was nothing standard, usual, or run of the mill about it. As weeks go, it wasn’t even productive. I didn’t get as much work done as I’d planned, and I definitely didn't batch cook on one of the hottest days of the year. So what happened? How was my week ‘normal’?

Two sets of siblings,
living it large in Knowsley.

Monday was kinda standard. Or at least, it was what I have come to regard as standard since March. A Zoom call with my goddaughter, her brother and sister, then some work and a food shop. It was lovely to have my weekly natter to my little mates, and then do a bit of work, but there was nothing out of the ordinary. But Tuesday? That was very different. I went to Knowsley Safari Park with my niece, nephew and brother. I saw lions and tigers and bears, oh my! (It was more like lions and buffalo and meerkats, oh my!) An action-packed day that involved my first participation in fairground rides since I was twelve, and resulted in a massive gin that night. Gin! On a Tuesday! Just call me a bohemian strumpet and be done with it. Wednesday saw the return of WW. Except it was a quick in-and-out affair (#sorrynotsorry) so myself and a few mates sat on garden chairs on the grass verge of the otherwise concrete carpark and caught up with five months of news. Then I went to the cinema, for aircon and a film. In that order. On Thursday, I went to Costa to work. After my early morning visit to one branch, I returned home for ten minutes before realising my furnace of a house wasn't a viable option, and so went back out to another. Two Costas in one day. I believe in the nineties, Crowded House sang about something similar. And then Friday was spent on my laptop, on a garden chair, in the outdoor shade, mostly drinking water and swatting flies, counting the hours to beer o’clock with each look at my phone. 

 

Now, are you still there or have I bored you silly? I do apologise. My point – one I concede was made in a rambling, waffle of a way – is that last week was not normal in the slightest. It involved crazy heat, far more animals than you’d expect, fairground rides, impromptu cinema trips, and WW in a carpark. It was a highly unusual turn of events. And yet my overriding feeling at the end of all that was that normality had returned to my existence. I was both relieved and confused by the sentiment. 

 

Obviously I had a stew on this. I spent the weekend working out what was going on, and I came to some conclusions. You want to hear them? Ready? Course you are. You were BORN ready.

The day I got my car was
 the last time it was this clean. 

First off, I used my car loads. It’s the first time since March that I reached my usual mileage. (About 200 miles a week, if you’re interested.) This obviously has knock-on consequences for the planet, and I appreciate that upping my driving miles helps no one in the long term. But it helped me and my head last week. It meant I was out and about, away from the same four walls; travelling, transiting, touring, passing through places I hadn’t been near for months. Getting in my car to go places, made things seem ‘normal’. For a bit.

I've missed people-watching randoms.

Next up. I am convinced being around strangers provided a massive boost. I’m not really a people person. I was always on top form with my own company in the before times. But an enforced break from seeing randoms is quite strange. I think I started to crave background dickheads, for nothing more than a distraction from my own thoughts. In Knowsley Safari Park - a day we have already established was as far from my norm as possible – the very presence of socially distanced others was a beautiful novelty. I’ll go as far to say that seeing shouty parents give their boundary-pushing kiddies an audible bollocking – which would usually make me laugh, cringe or both – was reassuringly heartwarming. The real world is re-emerging. Along with the rise in pollution, comes the rise of watching public family kick-offs. Happy times. Normal times.

 

I intend to channel her for the rest of my life.

Finally, something a bit more global than my car usage and some strangers in a safari park. On Tuesday evening UK time, Joe Biden announced Kamala Harris as his running mate for the US election in November. Now, I’ve got some skin in the game that needs declaring. No, I’m not a US citizen, I’m not a student of US politics (anymore, and I can’t remember much anyway) and I cannot break down, in detail, her policy positions on every single thing. But I love her. There are many reasons for this, but mostly because she comes across as compassionate, considered, and experienced as hell. With her inclusion on the ticket, there are finally some grown-ups in the room. There are some politicians ready to take on the far-right horror show that’s systematically wrecked everything over the past four years. Her first speech with Biden after the announcement, felt hopeful. You know, like politics used to feel? With the Biden-Harris bid for the presidency, things feel normal. It feels like accomplished, liberal, problem-solving people that would have my back, are going to give their all to something worth doing. I have no idea how T***p will deal with that. Whether it will be verbal attacks, more whipping up of the false fear about postal-vote fraud, or whether he will win because he genuinely gets more votes, (!?!) who knows? I simply have more reason to be hopeful than I did. And as we all know, what happens in the US eventually filters across to the UK five years later. (Based on the parts of American Studies I can remember, which were rock and roll, the rise of feminism, and the concept of ‘the teenager’, we're always five years behind the US on societal change.) It might take some time. It might take five years, maybe more, but perhaps normality (INSERT AIR QUOTES HERE) will return sooner rather than later. Fingers crossed. My week depends on it.

 

Have a lovely week, folks.