Constantly Adjusting Myself.

If you're finding the coronavirus situation difficult, that's okay; It's not easy, by definition.

At the moment, there are so many triggers to panic; if you're not worried about you or someone you care about getting ill, you're probably concerned about food or money. We've never had circumstances like this in living memory, so there's no precedent to reference; the nearest comparison is probably the second world war, but that's only glancingly similar.

In the past few days, my plans for 2020 were upturned, with my main work focus - taking a new show to the Edinburgh Fringe - excised from the diary, with the other two festivals I'd been down for at least postponed if not cancelled too. On top of this, my day job - Mostly Comedy - is on indefinite hiatus, with a JustGiving page offering a temporary lifeline, but the longterm gameplan's concerning; the money we're raising will cover some of our running costs, but I'll be unpaid until we reopen.

The backdrop's also been seriously adjusted, with my wife and me working from home and a close friend suddenly jobless. And we're all holed up indoors, living life like the first two sections of Wings' Band on the Run before the gaoler man/sailor Sam bit.

Under the circumstances, I think we're all doing pretty well. And if I were to offer any advice (while consciously self-applying it), it's to be kind to ourselves and patient. Everything's in flux, and we're adjusting to life on the hoof. And anxiety's only natural when faced with so much uncertainty. When I'm frightened about the future, I try to apply my mindfulness tricks and do my best to focus on just the here and now. And tonight I'm going to try and have a quiet evening in, a bit like that episode of Porridge where Fletcher consoles Godber on how to get used to life "in stir". Though maybe prison analogies aren't the best to turn to, on balance.

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