Mocha is currently tap dancing in her sleep on the cushion next to the bed. Her soft shoe/paw is tapping at the cabinet abutting the cushion. This is why I am awake at 3am. I suppose I could’ve just gone back to sleep but then I got up for a glass of water, a visit to the bathroom and thought “might as well stay up and write.” So, here I am. Excuse my mini-yawn.
Daughter and grandson baked a delicious “it’s not my birthday“ strawberry/lemon cake yesterday. We ate it twelve hours ago. I could eat more now but then I’d have to start my intermittent fasting program tomorrow and I’m on a roll with changing old habits, consuming delectable treats being one of them.
Yes, I like many, have expanded my waistline during this time of pandemic uncertainty which I also call my “so what if I have another piece of something to placate my feelings of insecurity” time. Though the ig (immediate gratification) – of shoving snacks stuff into my mouth is momentarily satisfying, it has the unfortunate result of making my clothes tighter, hence I am putting the kibosh on the ig. Plus I am in no mood to shop, which is probably not good for the economy but then spending money on fashion is not good for my wallet, especially now.
I must say (since apparently I have to) that the uncertainty I am sensing is one shared by millions of Americans who are sitting on the ends of their chairs/beds/sofas/etc., some with baited breath others with a hand in their bag of chips, wondering, just when this virus of unspeakable proportions will disappear and we can all go outside and play in the sunshine (those who are independently wealthy) or go back to work, many at two or three jobs due to lack of a living wage and ridiculous rent.
Being a person with too much imagination, and a sense of “por quoi pas?” I am picturing at least two scenarios on the day we exit our abodes:
1. People are singing aloud “free at last” in a sort of high school musical rendition of Porgy and Bess (without the sadness, death, violence, slavery). The children wave as they head off to their schools momentarily forgetting bullies, drills for shootings and fire. Beauty spas, open their doors to people with clogged pores from eating too much sugar, expanded waistlines from same and kinks in their necks from watching Netflix in bed.
2. People stay indoors, depressed, watching others go off to work, gazing back at the pink slips, along with stacks of unpaid bills, on the table which have been gathering dust for the past weeks…and wondering if there will be an election or if Trump is now a fulltim3 golfing dictator.
Excuse me, I must escape for a moment, because I see myself spiraling into a dark hole of pessimism and that will totally screw up any possibility of my going back to sleep without nightmarish dreams. I’m going to walk it off.
Okay, that did absolutely nada, except make me realize I’m actually tired, so I’ll continue this when I wake up again. Wish me luck. Zzzzzzzz
I’m back. Have you had one of those days, in let’s say the past month, where you just wanted to yell FUCK! Repeatedly? Today, even after getting at least 38 1/2 extra winks, is one for me. But, rather than have the entire virtual page filled with that ever so satisfying word, I’ll just get out the thoughts which have been bubbling up inside of me. Read at your own risk.
Besides the fact we are all sincerely worried about our fellow family/community members being carried out in body bags and not being able to attend in person funerals/wakes/memorials where we can cry in each others arms to further spread those nasty germs of wretched plague, it is also time to worry about our basic civil rights, to say nothing of our votes, being conveniently frittered away.
Now hold on a pretty second..I am not one of them gun-toting-Trump-frenzied morons who are calling for civil war in front of the governor’s mansion in this here “keep it weird” Austin, Texas. No indeed. I am sitting here in the convenience and comfort of my home, having washed my hands at least fourteen times since I got up three hours ago – it is now high noon in the Wild West, contemplating where we go from here. A Facebook “friend” has spoken to me about how things don’t exactly add up, that we are all caught up in the fear frenzy which has been fed by news from near and far and thus we may be seeing the erosion of personal freedoms like never before. And to this, I agree in some part. I know we must tread carefully with our eyes open to what is happening around us. The unease I feel is that we cannot possibly know what is really happening and that is the truly scary shit in which we are wading, now knee deep. Who and what can you believe?
The dis-ease we are feeling/witnessing has caused most of us to be neurotic about things, (like the right to vote or being killed by dreaded virus)…we had barely even considered these before. It is said it takes approximately thirty days to change a habit. Besides the obvious issue of exercising constitutional rights, do those habits in peril also include no more kissing hello, smiling at strangers, dining with a group of friends, hanging out at a concert, shopping unmasked, working in an office, kids playing on a playground …etc.?
In case you haven’t already done so, I hope I’ve given you Something to think about. And now I’m going to stick my head outside to yell you know what.
One thought on “Days of my Life #13”
Thanks Janet! I always look forward to your written thoughts.