Monday May 18, 2020 at 11:22am
A: remember when we used to write a blog?
A: on thursdays
A: remember when which day of the week it was mattered?
A: and now it doesn’t matter
A: bc no one knows what day it is
L: remember at the beginning of the pandemic
L: when we used to laugh at the endless memes?
L: and take screenshots of ourselves in our mid-day pjs?
A: was that two weeks ago?
A: or 1974?
L: that’s how time feels now
L: like it’s simultaneously fast and slow
L: bc there are no time markers
L: and no events to mark time with
L: i guess you and I could mark time by dates of death
A: we could
A: but we should probably come up with something a tad more uplifting than that
A: something slightly less depressing
A: we could mark time by liters of wine drank
L: or ounces of lysol used
A: or bottles of bourbon
L: or bottles of windex
A: or bottles of tequila
L: or bottles of sriracha
A: way to pivot
A: i mean we have to add some fun in
L: otherwise our next blog post might just look like this
A: i’m cranky and blah
L: i’m cranky and blah too
Truth is, it’s week 11-ish and we’re still feeling blah. And cranky.
We know this time is a big test for everyone. For many of us, it feels like we’re on a never-pulling-into-the-station coronacoaster. Some of us are embracing the tight turns and steep slopes. Some of us just brace. On top of the usual ups and downs and zigs and zags, we’ve had some heavies lately. Angie’s grandmother died on Mother’s Day and Laura spent her first Mother's Day without her mom. Yet it’s impossible to ignore that we are in the midst of one of the most remarkable, defining events of our lives. And while right now it feels all-encompassing and completely unforgettable, we know many of the details will fade.
So we thought it would be a good idea to record some of our thoughts. To write a journal, of sorts. To force ourselves to mark this time and remember what we’re doing and how we’re feeling. And you never know, maybe one of our future grandchildren will interview us for a social studies project. And such future grandchildren will want details. And so at least we will have some details.
Monday - Dear Journal, Today I’m cranky. Love, Laura
Tuesday - Dear Journal, Today I’m irritable. Love, Laura
Wednesday - Dear Journal, Today I’m blah. Love, Laura
Seems like we might not be cut out for journaling right now, so we’ve decided to pluck out some text strings from the past week to mark the time appropriately. Feels like it might serve a similar purpose. And we are quite aware that this whole post is likely to feel outdated almost as soon as we send it out, that seems to be how things are these days. Ever fleeting and changing. Anyway, here goes.
Tuesday May 19, 2020 at 1:42pm
L: just got back from the grocery store
L: and u know how no one can recognize anyone else because of the masks?
L: well, everyone recognizes me
L: um, have u seen my hair
A: u can’t hide
L: not only can i not hide
L: it’s the first time in my life i’ve wanted to hide
L: the first time i don’t want to say hello
L: because when i finally forget for one second that my mom died
L: someone sees me
L: and says something really nice
L: which i so appreciate
L: but i just don’t want to think about it
L: or talk about it
A: we could dye your hair blonde
A: and then you’ll blend right in
A: except that most blondes have disappeared from the earth
A: and mysteriously turned into brunettes now
A: or u could just go gray
A: we can call it silver, not gray
A: so u don’t feel so old
A: funny not funny?
L: funny not funny
Wednesday May 20, 2020 at 3:07pm
L: what are u doing?
A: i thought we weren’t supposed to ask that question anymore
A: because the answer is always the same
A: and so depressing
A: but to answer your question
L: so why didn’t you answer my call?
A: because i don’t answer phone calls
A: or texts
A: even though i have nothing to do
L: but you never did answer calls
L: so that’s not really new
A: so true
A: says the girl who barely leaves her house
L: i like staying in my house
L: and not having to see people
L: bc i don’t like it when everyone feels bad for me
L: i'm not comfortable with that
A: yeah i get that
A: depressed feels all wrong for u
A: ok fine, you can stay home
A: and i’ll try not to call you little miss agoraphobia
A: but i might
A: just for fun
So, to recap our pandemic perfect week, here are the highlights, also known as the lowlights. Grocery store runs in masks, some of us more recognizable than others. Hiding at home to avoid humans, some of us more than others. Oh and don’t forget the always-present feeling of uncertainty including, but not limited to, our kids' impending college plans, the emotional state of our loved ones, and the fear of more tragedy. And we wonder why we can’t shake the blahs.
Thursday May 21, 2020 at 12:23pm
L: did u see the article i sent u?
L: colleges starting to make decisions about the fall
A: i saw
A: those plans are hopeful
A: there’s hope!
A: i just need a little hope to hang onto
L: isn’t it amazing?
L: we just want some hope
L: even if it’s unrealistic
L: even if the colleges are really not committing to anything
L: and just hedging
L: and saying what they think we want to hear
L: we still want to believe in it
A: let’s just sit
A: in the unrealistic hope
A: bc the uncertainty is driving me crazy
A: I like to plan
A: i’m a planner
A: that’s what i do
L: um, i’ve met you
A: wanna know what else is driving me crazy?
A: social media
L: me too
A: maybe i just shouldn’t log on
A: bc that’s easy
L: something in particular that’s bugging you?
A: not sure exactly
A: sometimes all the posts just make me miss things
A: and miss activities
A: and miss all the people i never see anymore
A: i even miss the people i didn’t like
L: but there are some social media posts you might like
L: the ones that show some humility
L: and how it’s all falling apart
A: they have those? :)
A: ok, gotta go
A: it’s time to make the donuts
A: also known as lunch
A: that everyone hates
A: bc it’s the same thing every day
A: and not one of us can think of something new to make
A: besides turkey sandwiches
A: so we just eat that every day
A: and complain about it to each other
A: for an hour
A: every day
A: did i mention this happens every day?
L: funny not funny
L: our new anthem
We’re not feeling like our former joyful selves. At all.
We’re not feeling like our settled, comfortable selves. At all.
We’re really just not ourselves. At all.
But it turns out, we are still in there somewhere. As is evidenced by this crazy text string that unfolded yesterday.
L: my aunt bunni just sent me a poem that my mom wrote her
L: and then another
L: and then another
L: my mom used to write poems
L: to her friends and family
A: i love that
A: let’s write poems
L: or limericks
L: limericks are more fun
A: wait, what exactly is a limerick?
A: i can’t remember
A: omg i just looked it up
A: they’re sing-songy and humorous and only 5 lines?
A: i’m so in
So just like that, we started writing limericks. Self-admittedly-crazy, drag-yourself-out-of-the-blahs, there's-still-joy-in-there-somewhere limericks. Thanks in advance for not judging us for completely losing our minds. It’s been a hell of a 68 days.
There once was a girl who was fun
Certainly in more ways than one
A pandemic hit
And things turned to shit
And it felt like the fun was all done