Lockdown: I love you like a mango

There are a lot of things I don’t understand. I think I’m a pretty bright person, and I try to be open-minded about most things, especially things involving the diversity of people. Add to this the spiritual gift of (or at least a spiritual proclivity for) mercy, and I think most of the time I do okay managing my thinking about differences.

None of this means I understand, though. And a lot of the conflict I’m looking at seems to be related to people not understanding one another. I felt this most keenly (of late) in November 2016 as I watched my country and the many communities I’m part of deal with the reality of unexpected election results. I’m still processing, really. It’s going to be a long time before I’m recovered, if I’m ever recovered.

You know what? Not understanding is reasonable. The response to not understanding, though, should never be hate. We are all humans, and we all flawed, we are all broken, and we are all beautiful.

These are people, raising their fists, dying (from neglect!) in emergency rooms, and dealing with gender identity.

My role is not to understand. My role is to love the people raising their fists and the people judging the images they see on TV, and to do what that love dictates. I think that’s all.

Monday was a little rough, but I mostly powered through and got a few things done, including something suddenly urgent I thought we were done with on Friday. I was on three phone calls and one group text just dealing with it.

Breakfast was overnight oats. Lunch was English muffin pizzas. Dinner was three hot dogs with ketchup, mustard, and sauerkraut. I had three hot dog buns that had to get consumed very soon, so although I’d hoped to get something cooking in the Instant Pot, hot dogs it was. It was for the best — I was really hungry but I was also trying to get to bed early. There was no snacking, although there was some whiskey after the hot dogs.

I skipped the walk again for multiple reasons. I’ll do penance Tuesday.

Between tasks, I re-watched all but the finale of Silicon Valley season 6. It doesn’t feel as rewatchable as other seasons. Still pretty close to briliant, though.

My favorite daily podcast, The Tony Kornheiser Show, has been down to two casts a week since late March, which is a bit of a disappointment, but it’s been good anyway. Monday’s show included some rejoin music by a band called Supper Break, a bluegrass band. They have one four-song EP, released in March, and it’s on Spotify. It really caught my ear so I listened on repeat all evening. Good stuff.

I haven’t had a chance to learn more about these guys, beyond liking their FB page. Looking forward to taking as deep a dive as I can. Advance warning.

Suzanne texted me to ask if I wanted some pickled mango. I said I like pickled mango, but I’m not one of those people who gets super excited about it, so she should pass it along.

I finally responded to texts JB sent about the gyoza. Don’t know why I sat on that so long, except that’s how our conversations go sometimes.

Crush Girl sent me some texts about a friend we have in common, but didn’t get my responses until late. She may be on the network that’s been having problems these last couple of days.

I reached out early Monday to some friends in San Francisco who’ve been a little invisible in the usual places and heard back in IG. They’re fine, thank goodness. This is the couple who gave me my first iPhone a long time ago. They had an extra, since they had developed an app for a client and were done with it.

Independence Day is a Saturday this year, which means the holiday will be a Friday. I’m trying to decide if I can wait that long for a day off. I might have to take one next week sometime. Or this week. I’m feeling a little behind on stuff I want to do.

I have Tuesday morning off, and don’t have to be at my desk until 12 or 1 (depending on what I want to do with my lunch hour). I can’t wait to soak that time up, once this laundry’s done.

Still in lockdown! Still available if you need some human contact. Reach out.

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