Lockdown: Folklore

The last time a hurricane was headed right for us, some time in 2018, my dad predicted the wind shear near the Big Island would slice the top right off the storm and reduce it to just a little storm. That’s exactly what happened.

When I called my parents Saturday morning, I was hoping for some similar prediction, but “The navy ships are leaving Pearl Harbor right now,” he said. “When the ships take off, you know we’re in for a wind event. The ships don’t care about rain.”

My dad used to live on those ships. And he has an excellent view of Pearl Harbor from his lanai. When he says the ships are leaving it’s because he’s seen them leave.

“We’re going to get hit. Not hard, but hit for sure,” he said.

Great.

This thing looks like it’s heading right for us, like it’s going to plow right through the island chain beginning at the Big Island in the southeast and curving up to the northwest, moving back in time through the history of the islands from youngest to oldest.

I woke up after only about three hours of sleep and decided to stay up, looking forward to a nice afternoon nap. The idea was to tie things down around the exterior of the house, but it really looks like I have most of Sunday to do it, so I’m just going to wait. Instead I did a few normal chores and a little bit of reading. And lots of podcast-listening.

I took a very short nap so I could wake up for the news, then went back to bed and got up at around 8. Clearly it was time to take a walk, I think my earliest walk since this lockdown began. It didn’t quite work out that way, but I did get out the door by 9 and took a couple of bags of bottles and cans to the bus stop nearest my house — not my usual bus stop a bit further up the road. I thought I might keep the walk short, so I relieved myself of the recyclables as quickly as I could.

And then it called to me. McD’s. It was right there, across the street and up a block. So I had lunch in the dark, in a grassy area near the bus stop. A McChicken sandwich, a McDouble, a small chocolate shake, and a Diet Coke. I never smoked when I was in high school, but it felt the way I imagine I’d have felt the first time I snuck a cigarette on the roof of the classroom building at school.

I never did cut a class to smoke a cigarette (I didn’t have my first cigarette until I was twenty-five) but I did cut chapel once, up on the roof. We weren’t allowed up there, but there was nothing to stop us except a sign telling us not to go there. There’s a locked gate now.

Breakfast, several hours earlier, was the leftover penne, this time with some blue cheese melted in. It was delicious. Dinner, which I’m finishing up now, is a bowl of instant ramen with a large handful of choy sum and half a bag of bean sprouts. It’s aight. I picked up a different brand because I had “something different” on my shopping list and this was the best I could do. Some Taiwanese instant soba actually (not ramen). It’s not good. Unfortunately I have four more packages of this stuff. Guess it’ll go into the hurricane kit.

I felt the weight of my sins, deep in my gut, so I walked around the block and meandered through the neighborhood to try and exorcise the demon of gluttony, but as I warmed up I knew I didn’t want to go home. I ended up going through some weird (but not unfamiliar) streets and finished with 12,000 steps, or just about half a mile shy of what was once my daily expectation. Not bad.

“Exile,” “The Last Great American Dyanasty,” and “Betty” are the standout tracks for me on this new Taylor Swift album. If you’re only casually curious, check those three songs out first. She has Bon Iver on “Exile.” It’s kind of an amazing track. “Betty” is the real heart-breaker, though, and perhaps closest (thematically) to the work she’s better known for.

I love that she did a song with Bon Iver, but if she’s thinking of making this genre her new home, I’d love if she did a few songs with Kina Grannis, Marié Digby, or the Mountain Goats. That’s who this new album makes me think most of. Or she could revisit her country roots and maybe do something with the Secret Sisters. Heck yeah.

I was riding with Susan one night, somewhere in town on our way to dinner. This was after I thought we both knew it wasn’t going to happen between us (I was apparently wrong about the “both” part, but I didn’t find out until quite a bit later at a concert), and she was playing a mix CD. It had a Bruce Cockburn song on it — she said I was the one who turned her on to him, of course — and then something else I really dug, and then a Mountain Goats song.

It wasn’t just any Mountain Goats song. It was the Mountain Goats song, the one that makes me weep every time I hear it. “1 John 4:16” from The Life of the World to Come (2009). Susan and I had never discussed the Mountain Goats; I was surprised to learn she was aware of them. I said, because I wasn’t immediately sure, “Is this the Mountain Goats?”

She said, “Um, I think so.”

In the holding tank I built for myself
it's feeding time
And I start to feel afraid 
'cause I'm the last one left in line
The endless string of summer storms 
that led me to today
Began one afternoon with you, long ago and far away

And someone leads the beast in on its chain
But I know you're thinking of me 
'cause it's just about to rain
So I won't be afraid of anything ever again

In the cell that holds my body back, 
the door swings wide
And I feel like someone's lost child 
as the guards lead me outside
And if the clouds are gathering, 
it's just to point the way
To an afternoon I spent with you when it rained all day

And someone leads the beast in on its chain
But I know you're thinking of me 
'cause it's just about to rain
So I won't be afraid of anything ever again

Ugh. I can’t even read those lyrics without tearing up. They just uncover the vast emptiness I camouflage with work, writing, podcasts, music, food, movies, and God. I’ve learned to live with it — I think we’ve all got it in some flavor, only most of us deal with it better, some of us filling in enough of it with marriage and kids, calling it good enough.

Or maybe I’m wrong. Maybe R’s got it figured out and the emptiness was me, and now that I’m not there, it’s not there either. I know that can’t be entirely right; she’s got some family things that are mind-blowing and I can’t talk about them because they’re not mine to talk about, but maybe she figured enough of it out that she doesn’t have a “1 John 4:16.”

Dammit.

So I told Susan, with about as much pleading in my voice as I could manage while still being somewhat mature, that if we didn’t skip the song, I was going to cry. She skipped the song, and God bless her, she didn’t ask about it. Which in retrospect wasn’t fair of me because I made her cry at the Kina Grannis concert we went to some time later. Weird how these things are all linked.

My high school classmate Tiger texted me to ask about a song she remembered from our days at HBA. We had a biology teacher who was a musician, had grown up playing in local bands in clubs since his teen years, and who always had his Ovation guitar in the classroom, and when it was your birthday he would ask you what kind of music you liked, and he’d make up a birthday song for you right there. He sang in a lot of our chapels, and there was this one song HBA students really responded well to. She couldn’t remember the name of the song or the teacher, exactly, so I sent her the link on YouTube. Nice way to start the day.

Crush Girl and I talked about her adventures Saturday morning. I had been a little nervous for her, with the hurricane coming, but it turns out she could have spent the whole day because Saturday’s over and it was lovely from beginning to end. She sent me a photo of where she’d been. Gorgeous.

My boss texted the whole department to tell us to be careful, and that she’d stocked up on duct tape, so if we needed any we should just call. Someone else chimed in with what he had plenty of. My reply was that I must be doing it wrong — all I’d brought home was red wine and Maui Brewing cola so I could have kalimotxos.

Ali and I texted back and forth a few times early and late. She’d gone berry picking. I was getting the house ready for a hurricane I hoped wasn’t coming. She asked about some work things. I updated her. We talked a little about my salary. I said the topic was making me uncomfortable. Sent her the link to the song Tiger asked about, thinking she might find it interesting.

I know you’re thinking of me, ’cause it’s just about to rain.

One reason (and there are many) this song makes me cry is that I know this line isn’t true. It’s one of the most interesting parts of this whole R saga, the way I lifted so easily and so quickly out of her life while she never lifted out of mine at all. This is that baggage everyone’s always talking about. I’m carrying a ton of it, all with her monogram, and if she’s carrying any at all, it’s not mine. I say “interesting” because there’s a novel in here somewhere, there’s some incredible truth about human relationships I’m still chipping away at. “Down here, it’s just winners and losers, and don’t get caught on the wrong side of that line,” says a Bruce Springsting song I love. What if that’s true? You’re a winner or you’re a loser, and there’s that line.

If you’re in the islands, be careful. If not, enjoy a lovely rest of your weekend, and reach out if you need someone to connect with. Assuming I don’t lose cellular service, I may have lots of time for texting.

Lockdown: They didn’t even say her name

Thursday night I got myself to bed at around 2:00. A small triumph. I had considered staying up until 4:30, when the Costco gasoline station opens, to fill my tank first ahead of the hurricane, but decided that was silly, even though staying up until 4:30 is practically a way of life for me nowadays. It’s practically a tenet. The prospect of 7ish hours of sleep before work was too sweet.

There is a gas station right at the bottom of my hill, without Costco prices but without Costco lines. And it’s not even a five-minute drive.

But I woke up at around 4:45 anyway, against my better wishes, and thought what the heck. I put on some clothes and jumped into Jessica.

The Costco line was a bit longer than usual at five in the morning, but not by much, so there was almost no wait. I stopped at the nearby gas station on my way up the hill and filled my tires, something I’ve neglected to take care of since before Mother’s Day.

I managed to get a little bit of sleep before work, but I was groggy as heck, and my vision was blurry most of the day. Not my best day. I worked on my contributions to the staff newsletter and played around with a story I’m working on, but didn’t make a lot of progress.

Breakfast was a bowl of instant ramen with a mountain of bean sprouts. Warm salty, fatty, and soothing. Lunch was cold pizza. I had cold pizza for a snack, too. Then made a pot of penne with jarred sauce (I added red wine and red pepper flakes) for dinner. Not quite plague of locusts consumption, but I was still something of an eating machine.

Just before bed, I watched the last episode of the fourth season of Orange is the New Black. Heavy, heavy stuff with a few moments of comic relief. I think I read that while season three was in production, the show was extended a few more seasons, so while the writers worked on season four, they knew they already had at least season five ahead of them. This may have contributed to season four ending on a foreboding note, rather than the uplifting, tears-of-joy ending the first three seasons gave us.

“They didn’t even say her name!” screams one inmate when the warden does his news conference following the death of a favorite character. It feels like I’m watching a show about today.

I’m eager to get to season five. I usually re-watch a season at least once (usually more than once) before I move to the next, but I may not have the patience. The last two episodes have commentaries, so I’m definitely going to watch them with the commentaries first. Then I’ll decide.

Didn’t go for a walk. Ugh.

Ali and I texted a lot about her Kindle situation. It was a highlight. I like talking about books and book-related stuff with friends. Crush Girl and I texted a bit about the hurricane and our plans for the weekend. I think that was it.

Not a memorable day but thankfully a Friday. I need this weekend, with or without a hurricane. Preferably without.

If you’re in need of connection, hit me up in the comments. We can text through this together. Tell me what you’re reading or something. 🙂

Lockdown: Plague of locusts

It’s technically Saturday but I didn’t write about Thursday, so I’ll write about Friday in a few hours and focus now on Thursday. The two-days-in-one thing I’ve done here once or twice isn’t good for looking easily back sometime in the future, something I do on ocassion to mark the passing of days.

I went from the laundry to the beach and jumped in a lot earlier than usual, while the water could still be called dark. I just didn’t want to be in the water as more and more people got in, plus I wanted an early start on the work day.

I had a pretty good swim. Lately, I’ve begun with a pretty hard sprint, something I usually warm up to, and it’s good. Gets the blood going a lot faster and I’ve been able to go slightly longer at a sprint’s pace each time. I swear, when I become filthy stinking rich from being a writer in a non-profit organization, I’m going to buy one of those condos right at Ala Moana Center so I can just walk across the street and jump in the water each morning or perhaps each evening. What a cool life that would be.

People who live in those condos have access to a golf cart expressly for driving to the supermarket on the ground floor of the parking structure, where I think there is a reserved stall. So convenient and so cool.

(interjection from early Saturday morning: I’m giving the new Taylor Swift album a first spin and it’s freaking dang amazing)

I stopped at one of the breakfast spots in the hood for breakfast takeout. Had a veggie omelette (a different one from the ones I had recently) and cinnamon French toast. It was supposed to be breakfast and lunch, but it was barely enough for breakfast. I’m always hungry when I get out of the water, but Thursday I was a plague of locusts. I’m not kidding — I ate like I had a date with the electric chair in the wee hours of Friday.

I had my annual performance review Thursday, this year by phone. My supervisor is great, and I already had a copy of her assessment, so there was nothing to fear. Yet I still dread these things. It’s the formality, something generally set aside in daily interactions at work. If I have a problem with my job, or if I’m confused about something I’ve done or something someone else has done, I’ll just walk ten feet to my supervisor’s desk and ask her about it.

In these performance reviews, though, there’s is always the question, “Do you have any questions about your work or about this assessment I can answer?” If I had questions I’d already have asked them. But no, no questions. “Then please sign this document and return it to me so I can submit it to HR.” What the heck. It’s all so icky.

I stopped complaining about it last year, though, because it doesn’t make anyone’s job easier, and this year, dang it, I’m just happy to be employed. Let’s have these meetings every week. I’ll even wear a jacket and tie.

I had a phone interview with the subject of one of my stories. She wanted to make a few corrections, all of which are pretty easy. We followed up with a few emails. I had a Zoom call at 2:00, during which we talked a bit about how we’re filling in for the person from our department who was excised on Bloody Wednesday. Depressing but at least productive.

Lunch was cold pizza. More of it than I should have had.

There’s a hurricane on its way. The cone of uncertainty has it headed right for the entire island chain, ‘though forecasts have it weaking to a category 1 storm by the time it hits the Big Island and further weakening to a tropical storm by the time it hits Oahu. Here’s hoping it swerves north or something before it even gets here.

Although I’m well stocked for a hurricane and its aftermath, I needed the regular two-week pantry restocking and could use a few batteries and flashlights, so I headed for the supermarket half an hour before closing.

It wasn’t as stressful as it was last time. Only a few other customers, and just about everything I wanted was in stock. Picked up a lot of veggies and even some fruit, and putting everything away when I got home wasn’t as horrible as usual.

On the way home I hit the McD’s drive-through again! I don’t know why, except plague of locusts, really. I’d finished a Big Mac combo for dinner at about 4:30 that morning; now it was 11:15 in the evening the same day and I was back for another Big Mac combo for dinner again, not twenty hours later.

It was so good.

I went to bed at 2:00 in the morning, thinking I could get seven good hours of sleep before work, so I could have a super productive Friday. Didn’t work out that way, but I’ll hit that the next time I sit down to write about Friday.

I considered a walk before my visit to the supermarket but that didn’t happen, I guess because I was still pretty tired from the swim.

Thursday messaging: sent AJ a good-luck text about her job interview. She’s trying for an internal management position. Sylvia and I traded just a couple of texts: she said she woke up thinking it was Friday, and I said, “Bummer!” Sharon and I talked a little about work stuff — we’re still processing Bloody Wednesday together. We also talked a little about Korean fried chicken and some stuff about AOC.

Crush Girl sent me a text about a few things on Netflix, and a movie I recommended which she actually saw.

That was it. Somehow a good, busy day but not exhausting or especially memorable. And here’s your daily reminder to reach out if you’re in need of contact. I’m a spotty texter but I’ll do my best.

Lockdown: Pizza, wings, kalimotxos

I really wasn’t feeling it Wednesday so I asked the boss if I could burn a vacation day for mental health and she said sure. I spent most of it lazying about, napping, eating, and listening to podcasts. Spent a little bit of time on work emails — I finally heard back from a donor whose story I’ve been writing, and she had issues with the last few paragraphs, so I’ll be calling her for a follow-up interview Thursday afternoon.

I also sent out for pizza. And wings. And I drank kalimotxos. I’ve had funner mental health days, but this was exactly what I needed.

I watched an episode of Orange is the New Black, season four, and it has suddenly become very, very relevant to today’s events. Which goes to show how these things many of us are finally waking up to have been going on for a long time, and people have been trying to tell us for a long time. A favorite character dies while an authority figure has her on the floor with his knee in her neck. It’s devastating and heartbreaking.

I actually knew it was coming, unfortunately, although how it happened was still a shocker. I was following the actress on IG several years ago, and she posted a still from this episode, and the comments gave away that she died. Everyone was heartbroken. I stopped following all the actresses after that. I don’t need the spoilers.

Because of its setting, the show has always had quite a bit of darkness, but this is freaking dark. I can’t wait to see what comes next.

I had a couple of thin lazy burritos for breakfast, then some wings and pizza for lunch with a ton of leftovers. I had dinner at the laundry: a Big Mac combo.

Didn’t go for a walk because of the laundry, and I knew I’d be hitting the beach Thursday morning.

I listened to the new Pretenders album, Hate for Sale. The song are excellent but the mix is awful. I’ve listened on my small Bluetooth speaker and in my car and it sounds bad both ways. I’ll give it a listen with my good Bluetooth headphones this evening but I’m not expecting much. So disappointing.

Ali and I traded some texts. More Kindle talk. Crush Girl and I talked a little bit about a movie she recently saw, a DVD I had something to do with. That was nice.

There’s a hurricane on its way. The center of the cone of prediction is headed right at us. What a year.

I still have some time before I’m suposed to be at work, so I’m going back to bed. Stay safe, and hit me up if you could use some connectivity. I got words for you.

Lockdown: It’s a big day for nice

Fairly productive Tuesday. Got up early after three hours of sleep for no good reason and was at my desk nearly an hour earlier than usual. Hit the emails, worked on my cool scholarship story. Had a Zoom meeting with the department during which I confessed I’ve been trying to solve too many problems on my own, of the sort that others in my department could easily take care of in minutes, stuff that I’ve wasted days on.

My department includes a video guy, a photographer, a graphic designer, a web designer, and a communications specialist, and we can all sorta do each other’s jobs, just not as well as the person whose main job is to do each. It’s a group of creative people with really high, exacting standards, and we’re almost always busy working on our projects.

So I’m not hopelessly incompetent when it comes to finding, say, a photograph for the cover of a proposal with two million dollars on the line. But if I don’t find what I’m looking for in a reasonable amount of time, I can ask a few people for help, and they can take care of me really, really quickly. Only I don’t like asking for help, and I like solving my own problems.

It’s pride, is what it is. I know that if any of them asks me to write some copy, I can dash something off in fifteen minutes that would take them an hour, and I’ll be happy to do it. I mean happy. It’s what I’m here for, and I love being helpful.

So my reluctance to ask any of them for help, my hesitance about inconvenienceing them? It’s pride. It’s my saying I don’t count on them to be as eager to help or as giving of their time as I would be if the roles were reversed exactly the same way. It comes down to my not thinking as highly of them as of myself, and I have to get over it. I have to trust my coworkers as much as they trust me.

Kind of a major deal, and I weaken the team by not relying on it. Yeah, I suck.

After work I crashed for like four hours, unintentionally. So I did it without Darth Vader stuck to my face, but it was still pretty restful. I was nearly comatose.

I got up and actually took a short walk. Down to the bus stop near DeSa Field to leave two bags of cans and bottles, then resisting the temptation to go further, as I did last time. I walked back to the strip mall and picked up a few things. It was stressful. The cashier didn’t have her mask over her nose. The customer ahead of me in line didn’t have her mask over her nose. The security guard standing a few feet away didn’t have his mask over his nose. The customer behind me in line didn’t have her mask over her nose. What the heck?

Anyway it was about 8,000 steps in all, not ideal but better than nothing, and my knee feels okay, so maybe I can just do that every night for a while and see how it goes.

Jennifer sent me a text about extending canned chili which led to a brief exchange about Jollibee spaghetti. I think it’s okay, but the noodles themselves are too sweet.

Sylvia sent me a text about some coworkers showing up in her FB recommended friends. We talked a little about that — I’ve invited all ten victims of Bloody Wednesday to connect there and on LinkedIn, with not a very good acceptance rate, but it’s cool.

Crush Girl and I texted pretty much all day. It was great — kinda got me through the day, which would have been a struggle otherwise, on so little sleep.

For breakfast I had raisin bran with macadamia milk. It was not good. I got kind of used to it mid-bowl, but I never really enjoyed it. A shame. Lunch was a a few lazy burritos (I’ll explain tomorrow). Dinner, which I just finished, was Korean instant ramen with a huge pile of won bok and watercress. I had a little snack of tortilla chips with fresh salsa, sometime before lunch. I kinda want to avoid the supermarket but I think I need to go before the weekend, and I think I’m going to buy some powdered milk. One reason I’ve gone every other week (or so) is for fresh milk, but maybe I can get around that.

The occupant of the White House is trying to institute a police state in Portland. News came out today that he asked the US ambassador to the UK to steer the British Open to the golf course he owns in Scotland. People keep dying from this dang virus, and state governments refuse to mandate mask-wearing.

Me? I’ve watched Anna Kendrick in Noelle three times since Sunday and cried so many times I’ve lost count. I’m hanging on by my fingernails to comfort cinema, house cleaning, texting with friends, and work. And if you could use some of that texting part (or IMing or DMing), just reach out. Let’s get through it.

Lockdown: How urgent our love can be

My sleep has been terrible lately. Although I’ve had sleep issues my whole life, something feels a little different about this, so I’m slightly concerned. Of course, everything feels different nowadays so maybe I should just ride it out.

You know how sometimes you don’t want to get started on Task A because you’ll have to interrupt your flow when Task B comes back to you for your turn at it? That was most of my Monday. I even got up early to be available for Task B. I can’t say I didn’t do anything, because I made good progress on Task C. But I really wanted to get into task A and didn’t put a dent in it. At around 3:30, I emailed the parties I waited on, saying, “Hiiiiii. How are we doing on this?”

How we’re doing is not submitting Task B, the thing I worked on most of my Sunday afternoon and evening. They’re going to work on it themselves some more then send it back to me who-knows-when to make it pretty.

I’m totally fine with it — I say this with complete sincerity. It’s the nature of the work and I’m here for it. I’m mostly annoyed with myself for not just getting into Task A, knowing that things like this happen.

As I’ve said, everything’s urgent. There are just different levels of urgency.

I took a couple of naps after work and then without really procrastinating (I mean, not really), I attacked the Monster and got a good chunk of it done. A few unexpected wrenches in the machine slowed me down so that what’s usually a ninety-minute task took me nearly three hours, but honestly, it was fine. I was happy to make progress, however slowly it came.

I neither walked nor read Monday. I was just too tired, especially after my Monster slaying.

For breakfast I had overnight oats. They were okay. For lunch, I stir-fried won bok, watercress, and baby bok choi and had it with lazy fried rice. It was a little tired, so I also threw in a can of chicken breast, which really brought it to life. I had the leftovers for dinner. I also snacked on a snack-sized bag of potato chips and had a few of the peanut butter Oreos. They’re getting stale; I’m not going to make it to the end of the package before they’re no good.

I traded some texts with Crush Girl and Ali about finally discovering who pulled a couple of pranks with my car last year. I knew it was Dave. When it first happened, once I realized it wasn’t someone at work, the two most likely candidates were Dave or JB, and JB is in Virginia. There was also a fair chance it might be Liz and Jamie, paying me back for a lot of stuff JB and I did to (for!) them in college.

Anyway, Dave outed himself on IG yesterday.

I texted Sharon late to talk more about Bloody Wednesday. I also got an email from one of the Bloody Wednesday victims. We exchanged some thoughts on writing and on the Scrivener application.

We put out our call for submissions for Hawaii Stories issue 2. It could be a good one.

The numbers keep climbing. The sports leagues keep insisting they’re going to play. The schools are opening. It’s the end of the world as we know it and I feel fine.

Not really. But I am fine, at least for now. So if you’re in need of some connectivity, hit me up in the comments. I’ll send you my contact info and we can haha heehee hoho all the way to wherever the men in white suits take us.

Lockdown: Survivor’s guilt

Sunday was pretty much a work day. I didn’t plan to spend a whole day, but that’s sort of what happened. I got to sleep shortly before sunrise, then was awakened by the landlord doing stuff in the yard right outside my window, just an hour later. I usually sleep right through that.

It took about half an hour for him to get done, so I got up to use the bathroom and couldn’t get right back to sleep. Ugh. So I did the Sunday NYT crossword and fell back into bed. I had an alarm set to 12:10 but ignored it and didn’t get out of bed until past 2:00. I had planned to be in the office at 1:00 and spend just a couple of hours.

I did some daily chores and didn’t get to the office until 3:30, and I didn’t start working until 5:00. I was so hungry (I hadn’t had anything to eat yet) that I went through the BK drive-through on my way to the office, and I enjoyed it so much I took ninety minutes on it in the breakroom. Double Whopper, yessir. And rings. I almost never get a double but I needed to taste meat. So that was breakfast and lunch.

I did the proposal revision and emailed it out. Took about two and a half hours. Not bad. I thought it would be faster, but I had to remind myself how to do some things in InDesign. It’s been a long time since I was using it every day, and you forget how to do some things.

I got an email back, pretty quickly, telling me I’d left out the appendices. Ugh. Totally my bad. So I spent another couple of hours doing that, the bulk of it learning how to do what I was trying to do (import a table, and install Adobe fonts I didn’t have).

Then I updated the software on my work PC. I did a little bit of housekeeping while it did that, and when it was all over I was pulling out of the parking structure at about 11:30. An eight-hour day in the office. Not all of it working, sure, but dang it.

Came home pretty hungry but got distracted by my fifth or sixth viewing of Noelle, that Anna Kendrick Christmas movie they launched Disney+ with last fall. I must be vulnerable or something, because I got teary as heck. Actually cried near the end.

It was my first time in the office since Bloody Wednesday, and I spent a moment looking at a few of the empty desks. I’m feeling incredible survivor’s guilt now. And I’m pretty dang sad.

Finally got things moving near the end of Noelle. Had some Korean instant ramen with a small mountain of won bok and baby bok choi. I watched Rocket Science with Anna Kendrick right after. Not on purpose; it was the next movie on the jump drive I have stuck into my Blu-Ray player, and while I was cooking in the kitchen, the player just advanced to the next file. I ate dinner and watched that, and now I’m doing this. It’s almost four in the morning.

While in the office, I had a snack sized bag of sour cream and chive potato chips and a snack sized bag of cheddar bunnies.

I didn’t walk! I was going to leave the office at around 9:30 and do a quick 10,000 steps but then I had to do those appendices, so that took the rest of my evening.

I texted a few people Sunday. Sharon to talk about my survivor’s guilt. Penny to ask her to pass along a job lead I have, for one of the victims of Bloody Wednesday. Nobody who left sent the whole company contact info, and only one person sent an aloha email to everyone. I texted Crush Girl to ask a little about her weekend. Oh, I texted Ali, too, to talk about survivor’s guilt. She tried to counsel me out of it but I told her although I know all the stuff she said, you really can’t help feeling it. It may be a little while before I’m over it.

Monday’s going to be pretty busy, so I’m ending here in hopes of getting five good hours of sleep before I have to be at my desk.

Click that comment button if you’re looking for someone to connect with in these ridiculous lockdown days.

Lockdown: The absence of presence

My Saturdays seem to be falling into something of a pattern. Which I guess is appropriate since all my days seem to be falling into patterns. I didn’t drop off to sleep until past 6:30 in the morning and for some reason I woke up at 8:00, tired but wide awake. So I got up and had a bowl of raisin bran for breakfast. Read the news and did the NYT crossword (13:46 for a Saturday puzzle, and a totally clean solve).

I went back to bed for a few hours, got up and puttered around, went back to bed some more, and got up for lunch. Leftover angel hair. Watched the news. Did a few of the daily chores. Went back to bed.

I got out of bed around 9:30 in the evening and read more of the news. I re-watched episodes 5 and 6 of Casual, then read chapter 2 of No Filter. Around midnight I had dinner, the rest of the angel hair leftovers. Listened to some podcasts.

Oh, somewhere in there I spun the new Kansas album, The Absence of Presence, a few spins. It’s good. The best thing I can say is that it sounds like a Kansas album, which isn’t true of all their work. This sounds like the late-70s band even without Kerry Livgren. A good candidate for my end-of-2020 top ten list.

I texted briefly with Crush Girl and that was it. She apologized because she was going to tell me when I could meet her to give her something, and she forgot. Kind of a bummer, but I’m glad she got back to me. We’ll try to connect before the weekend is up, which frankly may be really good for me even though it’s ostensibly so I can give her something.

I didn’t go for a walk, and if you’re thinking my not walking lately is contributing to my downer mood, I’m sure you’re totally right. Just need to get it together. It’s weird because I’ve often sacrificed the walk in favor of sleep, but sleep’s been terrible lately anyway.

Sunday will be better.

Time for bed. If you need some connection, I encourage you to leave a note here. I’ll give you my contact info for texting or IMing or DMing. I’m lucky to have good friends who are keeping me somewhat tethered. If you need something like it, here I am.

Lockdown: Sloooow daaaaaaaay

Friday wasn’t bad either. I know I got some work done but I can’t really remember what. Felt like a slow day, which is sometimes a good thing and sometimes not. I know I say this a lot, but a huge part of my job, when I’m writing these stories, is thinking. And sometimes it’s thinking directly about the story itself and sometimes it’s thinking peripherally about it, and sometimes it’s thinking about something entirely unrelated.

In the office, it can be a little stressful, trying to look busy when I’m just thinking. I take a lot of walks. But sometimes it helps to have the work on the second monitor while I’m looking at something on the first. That’s the peripheral thinking, much of the time.

At home it’s less stressful since nobody can see me, but I admit sometimes thinking leads to distraction, much more easily at home than in my cube. There’s more than a fair chance this happened a few times Friday.

For breakfast, I did the stir-fry again, with won bok, watercress, and bean sprouts with lazy fried rice. It was a lot of vegges — enough food that I streched it across two meals. I didn’t have dinner until reeeally late. Like past one in the morning. I made a pot of angel hair with jarred sauce. I threw some red pepper flakes, red wine, and dried garlic in the sauce with a little bit of honey. It came out great; I’m looking forward to leftovers Saturday.

Somewhere in there I had a small bag of kettle chips for a snack, and enjoyed a couple of kalimotxos with dinner.

After the evening news (infuriating, as usual), I spent most of the night in bed, napping like crazy and listening to podcasts. It didn’t start out as escapist napping, but that’s definitely what it was when I willed myself up, at about half past midnight, to make dinner.

I watched the second half of the first season of Casual. I think I’m in on the second season. It’s a pretty funny, smart show with seriously broken main characters. The insufferable central male character is sliiiiightly less insufferable in the second five episodes, demonstrating a kind of grace I wasn’t expecting, in situations where vengeance might have been forgiveable.

Crawled back into bed at 6:30 in the morning, or thereabouts.

Writing partner texted me an update. I apologized for not yet getting to her work. Then I spent a few minutes thinking about entering a flash fiction in a national contest.

Sharon and I texted a little about one of the candidates for city council. We’re voting by mail this month for the primaries and it’s time to make some decisions. Not for the national or state elections — I’m going to vote Libertarian (capital L) and there aren’t any contested races. Our city elections are non-partisan, though, and the primaries are a chance for candidates to win outright if they get more than 50% of the vote. Otherwise they set up runoff elections. I’m 75% sure about my mayoral choice, but I honestly don’t know what to do for the prosecutor. I didn’t love the responses any of the candidates submitted to the Civil Beat survey. I think the only candidate I’m certainly not voting for is the guy who was already in the prosecutor’s office under the (suspended) incumbent.

Slow day for text messages too, it turns out.

Which means I have bandwidth. Reach out if you’re in need of connection. This is a crazy time and it looks like it’s about to get crazier. I’m here (ish) if you need me.

Lockdown: Holding

Thursday was aight.

I reached out to a couple of scholarship recipients for interviews, and connected with a coworker to get me in touch with a donor, after getting my notes and ideas organized for this one story. Then I did a little bit of background on another story. Mostly I organized my files, a tedious and time-consuming pain, but it has to be done sometimes.

The potato chips I ordered were delivered. That was kind of fun.

I spent most of my free time either napping or reading. Got through chapter one of No Filter and chapter two of Quiet. Had a horrible stress dream during one of my naps, about my parents dropping in on me with some family friends, coming into my house as I slept. The family friends had a couple of daughters who were interesting, of the sort my mom would like, but I was too stressed about the situation to get to know either of them and I woke up totally stressed-out. Ugh. I’m stressed just thinking about it.

I don’t know if this is a solution, but an evening of mindless entertainment of the video sort may be in order here.

I have to pick a few things up from either Long’s or Walgreens, each of them an equidistant short walk from my house, and each of them open all night. I was going to walk down but I’m really trying to avoid people, and by the time it was late enough I was too sleepy to go.

Or maybe not. I just realized I can probably McGuyver something for the thing I have in mind, using stuff I have in this cluttered abode.

Why I picked up breakfast Thursday is a mystery. I got home from the laundry (no beach), slept a few hours, got up, and ordered online from one of the breakfast spots in the hood. I ordered a veggie omelette and Nutella French toast. The French toast was fine, but it was just way too chocolately for me. I’m also kind of grossed out by palm oil nowadays and avoid it as much as I can, so what was I doing? The omelette was okay, but seriously nothing to get out of bed (or out of the house) for.

It was enough food for breakfast and lunch, actually. Dinner was a couple of microwave oven quesadillas. Fast and simple. I snacked on a snack-size bag of sea salt potato chips.

Writing partner sent me some updates on her work. I said I’d get to it but I didn’t. AJ and I decompressed a little about the stress we’ve each been feeling about this stupid COVID-19 situation. Sylvia sent me a link to a recipe for two-ingredient bagels, which look amazing. She says she’s going to give them a try this weekend. I said send me photos!

I accidentally sent Jennifer a happy birthday text meant for someone else. Then asked her for her birthday and she didn’t give it up. Sent the happy birthday text to the person whose birthday it was.

Crush Girl and I texted about a nice range of subjects including her dinner plans this weekend (again).

Did not go for a walk.

I think Thursday was kind of spent just moving toward the weekend, but I don’t really have anything going on this weekend, so I can’t figure out why. And it looks like I might have to work on a proposal if revisions come in over the weekend. Ugggh.

Not one of my better days, ‘though I can’t really point to anything that sucked. Here’s to a better Friday.