Day 53, late afternoon

I nearly made it out of the grocery store for under $100 (nearly, because the checkout guy forgot to ring up my chicken-apple sausage the first time around).

This means one of several things:

  • I am now a grocery-shopping sensei

  • I actually bought $55 worth of groceries on Friday afternoon and am just now remembering

  • I am finally cleaning out the freezer of all the meat we bought ages ago

  • I will need to go grocery shopping again before the end of the week

On my way back inside, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the glass of the vestibule door. A linen face cover concealing all but my eyes, hooded with pure exhaustion, and forehead, sprouting new lines every day.

“What the fuck,” she muttered — under her breath, under her mask.

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Day 33

April 15, 2020

It was a strange day. A cold front blew in overnight, bringing potato-flake snow flurries mixed with blinding sunlight, and barely a moment’s occasion to go outside into it. I miss going outside. Today’s bizarre energy could be thanks in part to my early-morning reading of the New York Times comprehensive piece on all the…

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Day 31: #thisis37

April 13, 2020

I need to add more to this, but suffice it to say for now: Somehow my 37th birthday was one of the best birthdays I’ve had in many years. Probably a lot to unpack there. The day started with crosswords, coffee and grapefruit mimosas in bed. It was filled with friends and family, beautiful weather,…

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Day 29: In time.

April 10, 2020

How on earth has it been nearly a month since going outside was a normal thing? Since I didn’t have to remind myself not to hold my breath when i’m around strangers? With just a few minutes left in my session today, I told my therapist that I believed I wasn’t feeling through all my…

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Day 26: A storm?

April 8, 2020

We had a tantalizing taste of spring today, 80 degrees with brilliant blue skies streaked with wispy clouds.  The sky is orange tonight, tinged with a neon purple like sizzling summer fireworks. It’s a full moon, but a cloud cover blindingly lit by lightning obscures it.  Rumbling thunder is building, loping behind the lightning, but…

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Day 22: Birdsong.

April 2, 2020

In the weeks since I locked myself inside, spring has arrived. There’s still a chill in the air — the bracing temperatures actually took my breath away when I took the compost bucket to the alley this morning — but the light has changed. The sun’s a little sunnier, as if to say, “I’m ready for my…

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