Day 54 - Mail

Correspondence has long been a source of joy for me, and I find that lately when I am feeling off-kilter and aimless, I drag out my two boxes of assorted unsent cards and postcards and sort through them, considering whom I should write to.  On day 54, I stacked up some mail I had recently received, turned on some episodes of Community that I had watched years ago, got out my lap desk, curled up on the couch, and started to scrawl greetings and thank yous.  There are so few things right now that are guaranteed to delight, but mail is one of them.  I have kept every card that I have received in the past 54 days and now have quite a collection on the wall.  Each offers a little spark of happiness, and I recall the thrill of opening the envelope and knowing that someone was thinking of me.  

Day 53 - Grooming

Today I showered, shaved, and donned a dress.  Trifecta.

Day 52 - Just A Perfect Day

The song “Perfect Day” by Lou Reed has been on my playlist for the past couple of weeks. I realized today that it makes me a little sad when I hear it. It’s a slow, little gem of a song about a day of rest that was dazzlingly unremarkable.  Today I removed it. 

But then I had a sort of perfect day in quarantine. It was unremarkable really. But I got a lot of boring chores done, cleaned my house, cooked soup, laughed remotely with people I love, did some work, took a walk, got a book as a present from my mom,  took a bath, pet my cat. It was round and satisfying. 

Day 51 - Talking to Strangers

I just spent a couple of hours on the phone with customer service representatives for Priceline, attempting to get a refund for my flight to Jordan for a trip that I was planning to take in July. It should have been infuriating because in 5 different phone calls, I got 5 different answers of how to resolve my situation.  But it left me only mildly miffed because it felt so novel to be able to chat with strangers.  Other than lifting a hand in greeting to every neighbor I pass on my walks, I haven't made small talk in weeks.  Tomorrow I'm going to call my health insurance company, and I'm sort of looking forward to it.  Strange times.  

Day 50 - Walk

Day 50 (and week 8) began with a walk outside in the May sunshine while talking on the phone to my best friend.  It made the whole day better, start to finish.  The day before, I went on two separate walks with different friends.  These were live, though we were masked and separated by the appropriate number of feet.  Although there was a defined distance between us, there was a closeness, too, as we admired flowers and houses and found new paths together.  And this was also a good day.

Walking is how I socialize now.  Walking and standing around outside people's houses.  

When I restarted this blog just over 50 days ago, I knew I would be walking alone in a new way.  I have definitely been moving my feet a lot more than I had been.  I am grateful for that and for so many things about this time.  

Day 49 - Summer Cometh

This song by Jimmy Fallon called "Starting to Crack" seems to sum it up nicely. 

After 7 weeks of completing the end of the semester via Zoom, sticking to my carefully prepared schedule, I'm starting to worry about this upcoming summer when I won't have as many responsibilities.  I'm dreading it, actually.  I'm grateful for all of the stability in my life, but I'm going to have to impose artificial structure to keep myself productive.  Easier said than done.  I have one more week with some student interaction, a week off, and then (hopefully) a summer class to attend to.  I'm working on doing some virtual volunteering with refugees and taking some online Spanish language lessons, too. 

What else?  All suggestions welcome.

Day 48 - Gaming Peapod

There's a game to online grocery shopping.  Set the alarm for 1am.  Throw items in cart, check out quickly so that you can reserve a time two weeks in the future.

Then spend two weeks curating the items in that cart carefully, lovingly down to the last possible moment the night before the delivery, all the while recognizing that you are unlikely to get all of the items you ordered.  If I order the expensive coconut milk instead of the cheap coconut milk, will it come then?  What about if I order two expensive and two cheap?  Better to have too much or not enough?  It's easy to get overzealous.  No small bags of oranges?  No problem.  I'll order a big bag.  And that is how I ended up with 8 pounds of oranges yesterday.  Oops.

Day 47 - Outbreak

I've had trouble concentrating on reading for the past couple of months, even before I started to self-quarantine.  Every time I settle down in the tub with a stack of books at my side to try to get started, I end up on my phone scrolling through Facebook.  I'm too distracted.

I'm still depriving myself of news, though it feels a bit more natural to avoid it now.  I skim the newspaper for the headlines.  I've been staying away from NPR and watching only a few minutes of Anderson Cooper each night.  (I was frustrated that Anderson was missing earlier this week but forgave him his three day absence when I learned he had just had a baby boy).

Last night I wanted some entertainment.  Better Call Saul kept me busy for weeks, and I just watched the weird cultural treasure that is Tiger King.  My friend D has given me an extensive list of quality films to watch, but I didn't feel like I could give them my attention either.  I crave a long, long book that I can immerse myself in, but that takes a commitment and enough focus to get involved with it.  I have toyed with the idea of The Stand by Stephen King, but do I really want to spend my leisure time reading about a fictional pandemic?  That seems like self-torture.  But it's oddly tempting.  Nah.  I don't usually revisit books, but I thought maybe that would be a good approach.  I tried to get started rereading BFG by Roald Dahl book.  That didn't take either.

So I just gave up on the idea of distraction altogether and scoured Netflix for a movie about pandemics.  Screw my delicate media blackout.  Bring on Hollywood.  I'm all in.  I watched Outbreak.  I spent two hours immersed in an exaggerated depiction of a virus escaping into the world.  Even telling you what happened won't ruin it for you because the whole thing is so bad to begin with.  In the dizzying conclusion, Dustin Hoffman and his crew needed only a few hours to locate the one monkey who could help them that was wandering around in suburban America using a five year old as bait, then helicoptered with daredevil stunts back to the militarized town that had been quarantined, used that host monkey to produce a serum, tested it, administered it successfully, and intervened in a military plot to bomb the infected town.  Dustin also got the girl.

Even though Outbreak was a ridiculous movie, it made me feel slightly better.  Partly that was because of the happy ending, which I gobbled up despite the improbability of the whole adventure.   Sure, there were a lot of bodies, but there was joy at the end.  The world seemed neat and manageable.  Moral.  There were capable, committed scientists flinging coffee at white boards in frustration.  There were evil government agents who were punished in the end.  It was tidy.

Maybe I do want to read The Stand?  Maybe instead of hiding from my complicated feelings about the state of the world, I should immerse myself in them.  That approach has worked for me in the past when I have been in traumatic situations.  Why not now?

Day 46 - The Fall

I'm preparing to teach a synchronous class this summer.  It will have an appointed Zoom meeting time twice per week for 6 weeks.  The class is scheduled to meet 6pm-9:30pm on Monday and Wednesday nights, but I won't be able to hold their--or my--attention for three and a half hours.  I'm imagining alternative ways to conduct the class.  It's an interesting challenge for this brief moment in time.  I'm planning to have their writing assignments relate to their recent experiences during Coronavirus.  Whereas this semester's students I had already known personally for 8 weeks before we went virtual, my summer students will be completely online.  I won't be able to engage in small talk with them in the same informal, trust-building way.  That's a little frustrating, but I can shrug that off.  I'll find ways to manage for this snapshot of time.  Ultimately, it will probably make me a more creative teacher.

I've been idly wondering what fall would look like for me and my students.  One day, I was startled to realize that I would likely have to wear a mask while standing in front of the classroom.  I imagined having to make sweeping pantomime arm movements to get my point across since I couldn't rely on facial expressions.  It is hard enough on Zoom when students' cameras are blank; picturing a room full of assorted masks with eyeballs above them staring at me seemed uncomfortable.

But it turns out that masks are not going to be my problem.  I was shocked to learn yesterday that there is very little likelihood that I'll be teaching in a classroom at all for the rest of this calendar year.  Over the past few weeks, I had mused that maybe we would not return to campus in the fall, but I still felt unprepared to hear it from our college president in an open meeting yesterday in which she explained that barring some great scientific advance, those of us who teach subjects, such as writing, that don't require a hands-on experience, will not be starting the semester on campus.

That was jarring. Planning a 6 week summer class to meet entirely online seemed novel, but the idea of continuing to stay in my apartment through the end of December?  That is a lot to take in.  It's overwhelming to imagine being by myself for that length of time.  If Day 46 feels long, imagine what day 146 will feel like?  Or 246?  Will I self-quarantine until January?

I feel grateful that I have the opportunity to stay home and take care of myself and my family.  But wow.  Just wow.

Day 45 - Tea on My Computer

I spilled tea on my laptop during a student conference today.  I cursed, ran for a towel, and started to panic that my most important work tool was going to be destroyed.  After some time with my hair dryer, the computer is fine, but it got me thinking how spoiled I am.  My biggest worry at work is having an accident in which I lose access to a computer.  I don't have to worry about having access to personal protective equipment that will save my life.  I'm so grateful to these health care workers who are putting their lives on the line day after day.