probably the only news I should absorb. Just watched a few snippets of the President’s presser. Wish I hadn’t.
Today has been fine. Fairly similar to the past two Mondays, I think, but who the hell really remembers? Highlight was a zoom gathering of church ladies who enjoy brown liquor. Had this event been in person and not web based, I never would’ve made it out the door. So, I guess you could say tonight I had some connections I wouldn’t have had under normal circumstances. There’s your COVID silver lining of the day.
Yesterday my family zoom’d in honor of my dad’s 74th birthday, which is today. Unconventional, yet lovely. My parents will leave Arizona and head home later this week. Nobody’s quite sure what that’s going to look like, so I’d appreciate any good vibes you’d care to send their way. Also, if you see or talk to my dear ol’ dad, feel free to reinforce what we all told him: NO, YOU SHOULD NOT PICK UP CHAPLAIN SHIFTS AT THE HOSPITAL WHEN YOU GET HOME. “Retired” parents are a handful, y’all!
I realize it’s not Easter, but this picture is from five years ago today, and it’s a beautiful memory; so here we are.
Would I remember this if I hadn’t posted the photo to Facebook? Not likely, but I did, and there are some things about this day I remember so vividly; others not so much. Pastor Stephanie called on everyone who could to take out their phones and take a selfie of “Easter People.” Unusual at the time, because selfies were less of a thing than they are now, and it’s not often you’re told to take out your phone during a worship service. I do not remember other specifics of the sermon, but know it must’ve been beautiful, because her sermons always were. I remember the gratitude I felt that Elise was sitting with her Godparents during Easter worship and the joy I felt when Jeanie (or perhaps it was Larissa) texted me the photo. And looking at it today, I love that in the background I see my buddy Terry, who I got to know last spring’s Civil Rights tour, and has become my favorite person take shit from AND dish it out to.
Today is Palm Sunday. What someone somewhere referred to as the Lentiest Lent of all time will soon be in the books. I have seemingly fallen into a bit of a pandemic Sunday morning routine. I get up and clean the kitchen, which is always disgusting, I write a little, I log on to worship, then I come finish writing. I am thankful the Pastor spoke of the difficulty of these days and those to come in her sermon this morning, because I think maybe I’m starting to hate this Sunday routine of mine. I miss singing with my people. And enjoying coffee with other parents between services and overpriced brunches and bloody maries. And sometimes partaking of virtual worship with my husband makes me wish he had a mute button. And the kids too, for that matter.
Not really anything else to say or report. The days are long but the weeks are longer. Or some bullshit like that. I miss your faces. Be well, Friends.
Today I’m tottering between numbness and immense gratitude. I think, under the circumstances, it’s a decent state of mind. I’ve had no earth-shattering thoughts or notable emotional outbursts.
About a year ago (maybe two??), a group of friends and I instigated a book club with the intent of reading the <not really controversial but made controversial by a small group of people with very big mouths> books from the local high school’s 10th grade language arts class. It felt like a tiny act of resistance in a time when it really felt like the bastards, and only the bastards, were winning every battle. The books were amazing, the company was even better, and I met a lot of amazing women I likely would not otherwise know.
Including Heather, who made these signs. I do not know the entire story, but I think this started when she and her kids drew something along the lines of the symbols on the sign onto their retaining wall. Then there was rain, so I believe they upped their game to paint. And then, this morning on Facebook, I learned they were offering yard signs for sale. A portion of proceeds will go to the Edina Meal Fund.
Mine was delivered this afternoon, and it is definitely swaying me more toward gratitude than numbness. It is a reminder of good in the world. I think maybe I’ll go enjoy a glass of wine from my porch and just look at it for awhile.
Be well, friends.
P.S. While we don’t have a set schedule, the book club is still going strong. We’ve moved on to the 11th grade reading list and will be going virtual in the next week or two to discuss Louise Erdrich’s The Roundhouse. Even though it’s currently all women, there are no gender or age requirements. All are welcome. Not exactly sure what the discussion is going to look like (Zoom or perhaps just a Facebook discussion), but if you’re interested in joining us, contact me.
P.P.S.S Check out @thankuwallproject on Instagram. Thanks Heather.
Throwing together a quick morning entry. Because my evening posts are, understandably, most likely coming across as very dark. And, because when I get home tonight, my ass is going directly to the couch.
Mornings are better for me. I thankfully still rest pretty well. I wake up two to three times a night, but if I can nearly always read myself to sleep using my backlit kindle. I know those of you schooled in healthy sleep habits are likely cringing real damn hard right now, and I get it. But this works for me, and until it’s broke, I ain’t gonna fix it.
I did a quick ride on the bike today, which is always good. And yet, I always resist it. I whine all the way down the stairs. I whine when I put the damn shoes on and situate myself on the bike. But then, after a 20 or 30 minute ride, I invariably feel better. Not sure why I resist it so when it makes me feel so much better. Self-loathing probs. I’m currently a big Cody Rigsby fan. He’s gay as the day as long. And crazy hilarious in a way I greatly appreciate right now. Today he talked about how he’s in the ‘I Love Peeps’ camp (ya love ’em or hate ’em, right?) and went on to describe how he prefers the bunnies. Because you can tear off one ear and eat it. Then the other ear. Then the head. Then the body. Ya probably had to be there, but I was amused.
That’s it for today. Time to hit the shower and do life.
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…
I resisted the urge to reply and tell him to fuck right off, and I’m right proud of that fact; because I’m tired and crabby y’all. I did follow my friend’s lead and ask to be removed from the group.
Here’s what I’d like to say to David:
Hi David. Thank you for your service. I am grateful. I would imagine you have an uphill battle with recruiting right now, what with the Commander-In-Chief being a complete and total dick waffle AND the world being in the midst of the greatest pandemic since I’m too tired to google when.
Here’s the situation though. I don’t know how you got my number. I don’t know if you’re legit or not, because recruiting via group texting parents seems inane. Also; I hate war, guns, hierarchy, and camouflage. You are really barking up the wrong tree here.
Did I mention I believe the Commander-In-Chief is a total and complete shit wanker?
Also 213,372 US cases of COVID-19.
My kid’s a junior. I can scarcely wrap my mind around my many friends who are planning to move their children into (or back into) dorms come fall. I sure as hell cannot wrap my mind around sending my kid to stay in barracks. To serve under a Commander-In-Chief I believe to be a grossly incompetent pecker nugget.
Best of luck,
In other news, today when I walked into the office my boss thanked me for my work and told me I’m doing an outstanding job. I could’ve cried, friends. I don’t know why. Maybe because positive feedback has been somewhat lacking in my years as a stay at home parent. Maybe anxiety. Maybe gratitude. Probably a little bit of all those things. Thankfully I did not cry, because that would have been awkward.
I had to go to the grocery store after work. That too, could’ve made me cry. Perhaps because nearly every aisle had someone with their cart right square in the middle of the aisle while they tried to opt which brand of pretzels or cumin or udon noodles to place in their carts, making me want to scream. Perhaps because I loathe the grocery store in the best of circumstances. Perhaps because there was no possible way for me to convey my gratitude to those working there. Perhaps because I fear they are all going to contract this virus. Perhaps because I was really damn grateful to have the means to buy groceries, even if I didn’t want to be there. Probably it was a little bit of all those things.
Once I got home, Jerod had made tacos for dinner. Guess what? I could’ve cried. I was hungry and there was food before me. I was tired and I didn’t have to make dinner. The four of us ate dinner together, which we do frequently these days. I knew this was something I was missing when life was ‘normal.’ This experience has cemented that knowledge.
As usual, I have no succinct or snappy way to wrap this up. I’m grateful for so much. I am anxious about so much. I’m sad about so much. Put one foot in front of the other and lead with love. That’s all I got.