Two mornings ago I was contemplating a short walk. Other than occasionally stepping outside to grab bags or packages delivered to my stoop, I haven’t spent more than 60 seconds outside in weeks.
I was contemplating that short walk until I saw two millennials strolling past my window with little more than a few inches of space between them. Not five minutes later, I saw three millennials walking next to each other, in much the same fashion, taking up the entire sidewalk.
My reaction? It was immediate and visceral. I was furious.
No, I didn’t throw open the window and shout at them or lecture them, much as I might have wanted to. I was, however, contemplating hanging some sort of giant poster in my front window reading STAY HOME or at the very least STAY 6 FEET APART!
I was contemplating eggs Benedict for brunch with friends, a source of pleasure long, long ago. (OK, technically, I was recalling.)
I was contemplating eggs Benedict at a nearby neighborhood café with my kiddos, a source of delight long, long ago. (Again, recalling.)
I was contemplating trying to make eggs Benedict — yup, let’s call it what it is, a craving. I suspect I associate eggs Benedict with socializing — wonderful, carefree, lighthearted socializing — with college friends (whom I miss) and my kiddos, likewise, missed more than I can say. But…
Merde ! I have eggs in the fridge, ciabatta rolls in the freezer, but none of the remaining ingredients. Over easy or scrambled will just have to do.
I was contemplating getting out of my current daily uniform: black lounge pajama bottoms, a black T-shirt, and a raggedy old burgundy sweater that I occasionally alternate with a pretty grey one. (Come on. Fess up. You aren’t dressing much either.)
Fortunately, I have plenty of these bottoms and a gazillion Target tops. However, despite contemplating a change of wardrobe… um, nope. Not gonna do it.
Just. Don’t. Want. To.
Despite my obviously unfashionable attire, I paint my eyes and adorn my ears every morning. What can I say? It perks me up.
First the eyes (sometimes cat eyes, sometimes smoky), then the baubles (oh, the pleasures of a stash of funky earrings!). Silly perhaps, but I take comfort in these girly routines.
I was contemplating cutting my own hair, something I used to do when my “do” was considerably shorter and my shoulders uninjured, thus enabling me to reach around to the back and not make a mess while trimming a bit. All contemplation aside, I think I’m better served if I continue to ignore those two inches of extra hair that is (SIGH) dragging down my face.
And the… um… cough, cough… silver strands?
N’en parlons pas. Un sujet qui me déprime. Je commence à ne plus me reconnaître !
I was contemplating waking up to a spring sky, taking a deep breath, turning on the news, and not feeling bombarded by a reality that is, at the very least, tragic. I know this awakening to a (more appreciated?) more familiar reality will happen, someday. But I also know it will not be soon and the most useful thing I can do is to STAY PUT, don’t tempt fate, try to remain positive, busy myself with small productive tasks, text my kids, and try to eat healthy food.
Sleep? My lifelong battle with sleep?
Not a battle I’m winning at the moment.
Are there lessons to be drawn from the tragedy that is unfolding? No doubt. But I haven’t the emotional bandwidth (today) to contemplate them.
I was contemplating… make that I am contemplating… French Roast, Italian Roast, Espresso Roast. Maybe a café au lait. Yup, I’m contemplating coffee, make that more coffee, and more coffee after that. Because, well, you know… Monday.
Monday under any circumstances. Monday on insufficient sleep. Monday in this strange, surreal, sorrowful, fucking God-awful time of coronavirus.
What are you contemplating?
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If you, like me, are suddenly without any imposed schedule for your days, is it possible to just go to bed when you want and sleep as long as you want? Just to see where your body prefers to be? Are you an early-to-bed-early-to-rise type or a night owl? Personally, I’m more on the early side. No all-nighters, not even in college. Only post-9/11, for work. Exceptional circumstances.
As for the people out walking, maybe they live together. After all, if I cuddle with my kid on the couch, there’s no point in walking six feet apart. As long as they stay away from others. I think a shift in norms toward everybody wearing masks, like in Asia, would be a help. It would keep people without symptoms or those not yet sick from coughing/spitting all over, and would reduce the germs that the uninfected breathe in. I just made me some masks and wore one to the post office and the market. Awful, but it’s best to be safe.
My routine isn’t all that different (except all work opportunities have dried up). My sleep issues are due to a medical condition worsened by stress, lack of exercise, pain, etc. (I’ve managed through periods like this before, c’est pénible, c’est sûr, pire que d’habitude à cause du système de santé foutu ici, impossible d’accéder au médicament qui aide un peu.)
Those strolling millennials? I’m sympathetic. I am. They’re college kids.
Masks, indeed. Fashion statements as well as barriers (primarily for orhers, which is good!).
Et chez toi ? La situation s’améliore ?
I am pretty much in lockstep with you on contemplations. It is beautiful out my floor to ceiling windows! I want to be in that sunshine! But….nope! This will be our fate for 18 months! Already I am ready to give up. But I am sure you and most everyone else is feeling this way. So onward and upward (or downward, depending on you emotional state)!
I agree, Ruth. I think we have a long slog ahead. And a daily (hourly?) battle to count those blessings, to boost mood, or simply to allow ourselves to express our true emotions, whatever they may be.
Eggs Benedict sounds wonderful. I am craving a latte. But I don’t know how to make coffee, let alone espresso with steamed milk or whatever goes int a latte. I drink exclusively tea at home and save fancy coffee for a treat when out and about. Guess I’m REALLY going to enjoy that first one whenever I get it.
Take care, DA. xo
You don’t know how to make coffee, Sue? OMG. I wouldn’t be able to crawl my way through the day (but I like tea, too, and I don’t drink coffee after noon).
Hey… What if I send you a bag of coffee and you send me a roll of t.p.? 🙂
xo
Ah, the eggs Benedict may fall squarely in the camp of Holiday Pleasures and are best not tried at home. Like the bottle of Ouzo brought back from the Grecian idyll that fails to recreate the same ambience imbibed in your flat; or the Peruvian pan pipes CD that sounds utterly bizarre as an accompaniment to the said Ouzo in the same said flat. So it’s a wiser step to have scrambled eggs with your ciabatta roll and enjoy that deliciousness while you facetime a friend, instead!
Hair? Let it grow. I keep forgetting to wash my hair. Once again I got out of the shower yesterday and said drat! forgot again … I resorted to plaits on the top of my head à la Heidi of the Alps. I saw a couple of neighbours in the communal laundry and both commented on how much they liked the effect, but I think everyone is pleased to see something new these days. Our pleasures are indeed small. Makeup is getting a bit more experimental and I think I’ll finally try the false eyelashes I impulse purchased a couple of years ago. I did a Korean face mask that I found in the bathroom cabinet, too. I feel like I’m tidying up productively!
Don’t. Watch. The News … ’nuff said.
I’ve taken pleasure in still being able to have a nice strong glass of iced tea. A little, but increasingly important, touch of normalcy in weird times. Then I see DPoC has others of similar thoughts – co-caffeine contemplators! I’m contemplating the odds.
More seriously, I’ve never developed the coffee habit either, but I am now appreciating how something formerly at the periphery of my awareness has taken center stage. I’m grateful.
Hello DA!
I am missing your wise posts and beautiful prose and hoping you are well and enjoying your morning coffee as we all continue to get through this.
Thank you. On verra.