~/garfish

“habitual diversion of the mind to purely imaginative activity or entertainment as an escape from reality or routine” -Merriam Webster

This is another continuation of my series of posts reflecting on hobbies, work, joy and relaxation. I realized that one important aspect was missing as a major theme: escapism. The obsession and mental occupation that (for me) comes with a difficult task at work, a new hobby, a good (audio) book, series or video game. The drive to get through the mundane parts of the day to get back to the thing that feels like I could do it forever. The taste of dopamine in the back of my mouth while I find ways to engage in the thing while I should be doing something else. Listening to podcasts about it in the car, searching information while I’m on the toilet, making spreadsheets. Planning ways in which I can manage to spend a whole day overindulging in just that one thing. Until I suddenly snap out of it, somewhere between two weeks or a month in.

It runs in the family

My father used to have two small cabinets on wheels in his office, each with twenty or so small drawers. Some drawers were meticulously labelled ‘pencils’ or ‘scalpel blades’ or more generally ‘drawing’ and ‘office’. The largest section by far was labelled ‘Krimskrams’ (the German version of ‘knickknacks’). From a very young age, way too young to be around scalpel blades unsupervised, these drawers fascinated me. I opened them, one by one, investigating their contents so many times that I remember them better than my own drawers and cupboards from that time. I remember their smell, a mix of the leather that softened some of the drawer bottoms, the graphite of the pencil lead refills, the metallic tinge of the various hobby knives and office supplies and the chemical overtone of the inks and glues and markers. The feel of the hard plastic cupboards and the slight rattle when opening the drawers. They always opened super smoothly, but the knickknacks rattled. Everything in those drawers was magical to me.

I started writing this before the summer holiday and am finishing it now that the holidays are over (summer is not), so it might read a bit disjointed, because it is.

Summer blues

Summer is here and ever since I was little I have felt the anticipatory sadness of summer ending as soon as it starts. Free time and sunny days, so many plans and half-formed ideas of activities, endless hours of just gaming or hanging around at the communal pool, going to the forest. But the idea of the holidays ending and school resuming always hung over everything, autumn was always just around the corner. I don’t know whether this is a common feeling or a product of my anxiety (which also is a common condition). I am working on just enjoying the moment and not thinking too much about the fleeting nature of everything. But this feeling of the summer ending when in reality it just started has many forms in my daily life as an adult.