Lockdown: Macchio Macchio, man

Aaaaaand let’s talk about Monday.

Slept terribly. Again. Tried to write but couldn’t focus. Spent some energy chasing down some loose ends, not left loose by me but my responsibility, so I hit those emails with gusto. Not really gusto. But more energy than I felt, that’s for sure.

Took a short break to hit the Taco Bell drive-though. Still good. Not tired of it yet.

I have to admit I was low-energy and non-productive pretty much all day. Not my best day at the nonprofit, but at least I did not make anyone’s work more difficult, which is a huge positive given my history. I just kept a low profile, answered emails quickly (it wasn’t difficult; I think I only got three emails) and set myself up for success Tuesday.

I skipped lunch, so by early evening I was ready to eat, and I was determined to get some takeout, something different, either somewhere I’d never been or something I’ve never had from somewhere I have been. First I drove aimlessly around the hood: Liliha, Nuuanu, Kalihi. Pulled up to Ha Long, a very popular pho joint on Dillingham. I’ve had pho there (it’s good but it’s not great), but I decided if they had a promising-sounding banh mi on the menu, I’d get that.

Then I realized I’d left my wallet on my desk. I had my phone, which has saved me most times I didn’t have my wallet, but I didn’t want to approach the register, ask if they took Apple pay, then slink out when they said no. So I drove home, returned, ordered a lemongrass chicken banh mi and some summer rolls, and dove in when I got it home. The banh mi was quite good — definitely a step up from Ba-Le, which might be the only other place I’ve had it. There’s a Ba-Le on campus at Manoa and I dined there many times before we relocated our offices.

I didn’t do any writing during my usual dedicated writing time, unless journaling counts, which I try not to allow.

For some reason got on this Joan Jett kick and listened to her first two albums all evening. Good stuff. Punky and raw but polished enough for radio, somehow.

I read a little, then watched the first two episodes of Cobra Kai. Tamlyn Tomita and Yuji Okumoto are in season three, so I’ve got to see it when it drops. What the heck. Season one was ten bucks on Prime, which is less than a movie ticket in a theater, and it’s five hours of hopefully solid nostagia.

The first two episodes are promising. The show does pander shamelessly to 80s nostalgia, but whatever. I like how the show makes a point of showing how much more enlightened teens today are. We were barbarians in the 80s and I hope none of us is proud of it.

Then it was more reading until I fell asleep, uncomforably and without Darth Vader. Great. What’s worse for my health: reading in bed now when it results in my sleeping without my lifeline, or reading in bed as a tween, under the covers with a flashlight?

Books are bad for you.

I got a text from a coworker thanking me for my Christmas gift. That felt good. Penny texted me to say she finished Ted Lasso, so we chatted about that a little. Jennifer sent me some screen shots of the local news; it led to the use of “nonprofit” as noun and adjective. Crush Girl and I traded a few messages about her Christmas get-together.

I’m off New Year’s Eve and would like to think of some good way to spend it. It will probably sneak up on me, though, and I’ll spend the morning thinking of something to do and then the evening trying to make it happen, but it won’t. If I just spend it in bed reading, I should be satisfied, right? That’s really what I want to do every December 31.

My book calls. I must answer. First, a few chores. I am going to get ready for bed, hours before I plan to put myself to bed, hoping to avoid a repeat of Monday night.

Don’t go through it alone. Leave a comment if you need someone to connect with. It’s a long, dark weekend ahead.

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