Yesterday was tough. Seems like it was tough for a lot of people. While I’m pop culture challenged and have never read or seen any of The Hunger Games, I do love me some Secret Sisters and have listened to this song A LOT over the past year and a half. So I shared this song on Facebook last night.
As to whether or not today was kinder, I struggle to say.
Work was fine. I’m told the workflow we’re currently experiencing is vastly different than prior years. Not because the office is completing more returns or less returns, but because the virus has apparently altered the normal ebbs and flows of when folks submit their documents. It is ultimately making for a less chaotic April than what my co-workers are used to. I can only take their word for it, but I can tell you the phone rings way less than it did three weeks ago. And, not having people in the office to pick up returns makes completing my tasks far more efficient.
Since coming home, though, I have felt like every pore of my skin is oozing irritation. My kids are loud, my husband is loud, everyone wants to talk to me. And all I want is for everyone to shut the hell up.
Even though they’re not being particularly annoying, I am finding them to be REALLY FUCKING ANNOYING. My husband cleaned the kitchen, which I should never ever complain about, but he had to ask me where every single thing went. And he loves to talk to me about significant life decisions when I get home, and all I want to do is put my feet up and snuggle with the dogs (who, by the way, do not talk).
Meanwhile, I am trying to be civil, because no one has really done anything worthy of me being so damn edgy. So I’m trying to smile and laugh and listen attentively. But it’s not going well.
I hate being like this. I want to be nice. I want to not let the little things get to me. I want to not be annoyed when I get an automated call from the school saying my kid didn’t turn something in (none of us know what class its even from). I want to not fight with her about her soccer homework (yes, that’s a thing, and for reasons I cannot explain, it’s a battle I’ve chosen).
I’m not posting COVID numbers today. They are going up. I cannot say if they are going up faster or slower than was predicted. It seems like every day there’s a famous (to me) person who is critically ill or has died of complications related to the virus. Previously mentioned John Prine, who is hanging in as far as I know. Ellis Marsalis, patriarch of the what I would think has to be the first family of jazz, has died. I know a person who had a presumed positive (because there are not enough tests), and I have friends of friends who have tested positive. None have become critically ill. For that, I am exceedingly grateful.
That is all I can report. I suppose in some ways today was kinder. In others, it wasn’t. I’d imagine tomorrow will be the same. And the day after that and the day after that and the day after…
You get the point. Be well, friends.