All I was trying to do was track however many grueling days we were under quarantine from a seemingly unstoppable virus. I did not expect America to become an enormous street war.
That’s not true. I very much expected it. I have been saying for months that I expected it. But now it’s here. You can make dessert; you can watch movies together; you can try to get some math done, read The Jungle Book… the world is falling apart in a way never seen before.
The things I didn’t expect, and couldn’t imagine, are the things that I believe are on their way next.
Things that I used to look at as a list of items to accomplish in a day — to, with great satisfaction, cross off my list hour by hour — are now it seems the sum total of what we do in two months. We have spent a week trying to hang two posters. We have two boxes of special flavors of Oreos to send to a friend in England, where Birthday Cake and Carrot Cake Oreos are not common. It will take us all week, IF we push hard, to: bubble wrap them, box them, address them, and for Tucker to get them to the post office.
It’s June. It is in fact, my father’s 75th birthday. I am relieved he is dead. I have so many friends whose parents are sick. Suffering. Alone. Waiting.
No one knows what will happen with summer; nothing brings me to tears more than this thought. The summer.
I think we should just start thinking about Halloween; it seems like the most brash and hopeful act I can personally make.