By Monica Green
At the beginning of lock-down, I created a long list of my goals for Summer 2020. I planned on utilising this time for self-growth; I'd read all the 'classic' books I'd wanted to during my A Levels, I'd finally dictate the course of my learning on ‘Coursera’ and I'd wipe the dust off my German GCSE textbooks to rekindle my long-forgotten love of the language.
Three months have now passed. And the only word I remember in German is still 'hallo'. Still living my best life on pot noodles. To be honest, I have no clue what I've been doing with my time. I've been going on the occasional run, I've been lying in the sun, binge watching 'Killing Eve', chatting to friends and reflecting on my time at school, and the person I've grown into.
I have not mastered a new language, learned a new instrument and I still am clueless about politics. I spent my day yesterday planning on painting a cityscape of London, but ended up splatting acrylic on the canvas, the product being a mess of colours and spots, which my mum kindly praised as 'abstract'.
I am slowly coming to terms with the fact that it's okay to do nothing. It's okay to wake up at 11:30am with no plan for the day. It’s okay to let the day pass by and let yourself marvel at the colours of the sunset, not achieving anything necessarily tangible. I expected to use my time before university to reorganise the chaos of my existence, but I'm still the mess of a human being I was three months ago (with better music taste, of course). But I am beginning to realise that chaos is beautiful. It's abstract and colourful. It's an art.