Oops. I forgot to write about Monday before I wrote about Tuesday. It’s been this kind of two weeks.
It’s just as well, to be honest. Seriously, the days don’t differ much, one from the other, except for stuff I eat and people I interact with and media I consume. It’s the whole reason this lockdown journal exists, so the days don’t blur together into an objectless blurry photo. I write about the minutiae of daily work and living because the minutiae is all there is.
I stayed up far too late Sunday evening because that’s what I do Sundays when I don’t go to the beach Monday. I don’t even remember what I did, except not go to bed. I hate giving in without a fight to the weekend’s conclusion.
You’d think Monday was a holiday, based on the paltry few emails I got. Three emails from two coworkers. I sent a few more than that, replying to emails from late last week. I mostly spent the day staring at my Maui donor story without really making any progress. I also spent time flipping through my notes from the workshop last week.
I watched Pitch Perfect 3 for the fifth and sixth times in four days, opting to let it play while I worked on my NaNo project. The Skype was pretty subdued, but I kicked out 2322 words.
I think I may have had a slice of pumpkin-custard pie for breakfast. I tripped my way to the fridge for a Diet Pepsi, took the box out, cut out a small(ish) slice, and ate it right over the sink with my hands, the way one eats a slice of pizza. As dining experiences go, it lacked a certain grace. As early-morning sensory stimulation goes, it was just about perfect. I felt like the up-all-night cat devouring the early bird for a late night snack. I also ate some kulolo for a snack. That might have been lunch.
Dinner I remember very well. I boiled some angel hair pasta and tossed in some of that delicous bagna càuda, topping with some canned parmesan. Heavenly.
I texted my sister to give her a little update on my parents. Then Ryan to ask him if he was aware that there were imposter accounts on IG for him and his daughter on the same day. Sharon actually texted me first to tell me about the Ryan account. I saw the daughter account myself. Crush Girl texted me to talk about a new series she’s been watching on Netflix. I hadn’t heard of it but I was pleased to see one of the main characters is an Asian teen.
If was supposed to go to bed early but I’m a doofus and stuck around in the NaNo Skype longer than I meant to — by two hours. I was going to be dragging Tuesday for the workshop but this is the price of creating art. Even crappy art.
Leave a comment if you’re feeling disconnected. Here come the holidays. Like a cat pouncing on a bird, or a bird pouncing on a worm. Don’t get slurped by winter.