A ho-hum day

 

Even in quarantine, there’s usually something to distinguish one day from another—a patio visit from a friend, a new recipe, a Zoom meeting. Something to break the monotony of the day. Today there was none. And once again a rainy, chilly, dull morning greeted me.

I piddled, spent too long on Facebook, which I find I do a lot these days because of the political news—no, not the opinion pieces, but the hard news sources that report on there. Of course I am frustrated by the paywalls on the New York Times, the Washingto Post, and our local Star-Telegram. I should subscribe to one national paper that I respect, but I find I don’t like to read newspapers on line. My difficulty in getting print copies is a whole different story, and I won’t go into it now.

But the result today, as in many days recently, is too much time spent browsing the web for news, election updates, etc. It’s self-defeating, because all it does is increase my anxiety—and believe me, I see physical signs of anxiety in me. I explained to Jordan that I probably wouldn’t be much good for the next week, and she promptly said I need a new project. Huh, me? With too many projects on my desk already? She had in mind cooking desserts. I will take that under consideration, but meantime she has an array of meals laid out for me to cook.

I did listen to four chapters of the audio version of Saving Irene, and I’m gradually getting ahead of that project. I am now well over halfway through the book. I did some good email business—a letter of recommendation for a friend, some marketing posts for Saving Irene—have you tried the hamburger Stroganoff recipe? Emails to a couple of old friends, including some in Omaha where trump left his followers in frigid weather with no transportation. Such a caring man!

But overall, I accomplished little. I napped, of course, and when I woke up, I thought since we were not having family dinner—leftovers, and we were each eating on our own—I’d just stay in my jammies. But a voice in the back of my mind said to get dressed—for my own sake, not for the family. I do usually work in jammies until after I nap and then I “freshen” myself ad put on new clothes. So today I did that anyway—Jordan who came out for happy hour was the only beneficiary of my spiffed-up self.

With leftovers for dinner, I didn’t even have cooking to pull me out of my doldrums. But Jordan did—last night she undertook what she thought would be a huge process and found out it wasn’t that big a deal—she made pesto out of the large bunch of basil neighbor Mary had given us. So now we have a bunch of basil in the fridge, and Jordan is planning spaghetti with basil sauce and chicken for election night supper.

I think she is already beyond cooking that night. I am beyond worried about how to make the night pass—a lot of wine and early to bed? In truth, I may be less anxious about election night than the days the immediately follow

I did find an event outside my cottage tonight—a Zoom meeting of our neighborhood association. I haven’t attended meetings because, in truth, I don’t want to get out after supper, especially when they moved the meeting to eight. But now it’s back at seven and I could go from the comfort of my desk, so I was a wiling participant, though all I did was listen. I hope they keepe the Zoom meetings even after we don’t have to quarantine.

This afternoon, late, the sun came out a bit—an encouraging sign. And the temperature is to creep up the next few days until we reach Saturday which is to be pleasant and in the seventies. Maybe the world will be all right.