It is a month to go for the first year anniversary of the covid never-official- -but-socially-obvious shutdown. It was eleven months ago that the restaurants and libraries closed, that classes went online, and offices darkened. And today is the day that I, with a natural predilection for solitude and quiet, am quite tired of it. I know it will last longer, that Dr. Fauci says we should be back to normal by the end of the year, though I suspect it might be even longer. So I write here as I give myself a facial mask treatment, a kind of gloopy moisturizing thing because I actually have the twenty minutes to do so. I momentarily fantasize I am at a health spa, coated in seaweed and salt spray, attended by a host of massage therapists accompanied by lulling music and sips of cucucumber water. In reality, I type at my iPad while the dishwasher is a making distressing knocking noise which I am trying to ignore.
I have already played chess with the computer, which means I get checkmated in thirty minutes, or else end in a draw in which I chase the opposing king with my rook or queen but never really win. I had already had a slice of cake, and added copious amounts of sour cream to my dinner. I have binged as much as I could on English noir detective tv. I will be asleep before 10. But before I do, I remove my mask, and discover the glow I have been promised is just sticky wetness on my face. I am not seeing an improvement, and the dishwasher is still clacking. I think the last mug I put on the rack must have dislodged. Hopefully this will be the most eventful episode this week in my life.
One goes on, of course, and a day has already passed since I wrote that. In the meantime, I finished up the detective show I was binging, watched a zoom broadcast, watched an Instagram interview, and made plans to get my hair cut. In a hour or so, I will vacuum the house. I discovered one of the rose bushes has a serious problem with scale, got both the screen door and the mailbox keyhole fixed. Life seems at times a series of chores, and accidental encounters with nature. I am eager for the vaccine, and hope you are, too.