Tetrus-Style and The Hazards of Working At Home

Monday, March 23, 2020

Global Status: 379,080

Active Cases: 260,133

Recovered Cases: 102,423

Fatal Cases: 16,524

The sunrise was the kind of brilliant tangerine I thought I’d only see in my paint-by-number painting. It bled through the curtains when I pushed them aside to see. Glorious and clear and pure and so pleased with the world’s current attempt to rid itself of humanity. I smiled at it nonetheless and it kissed my face right back.

Aidan wandered around the kitchen and ate fresh Amish Bread with honey and two Morningstar Sausages. I did all the regular things regular people do on regular days. I jammed as many dishes as possible into the dishwasher. Tetrus-Style. Aidan’s work shirts have been replaced by t-shirts. A pair of jeans lasts days without any work yuckies spilling on them. All the laundry fit comfortably in one load.

When did we last shower?, we wondered aloud. When did I change out of my pajamas?, I wondered…or at least, when did I change out of These Pajamas?

Thunk – said the floor when Aidan slammed into it. I came running. He lay there groaning. What hurts?, I asked. My finger, he said. He’d tripped over a tennis ball in his office and fell sprawling into the hallway. The Hazards of Working At Home. As the day wore on, his finger became swollen and he bemoaned, I’ve Jammed My Main Mousing Finger! But trooper he was, and continued to work.

It was too cold and windy for a bike ride, so I painted my painting with a lovely sky blue and he worked and then we danced butt to butt in the kitchen because we thought it was funny. He put on his Duke Ellington Pandora Station and we listened to jazz as though nothing bad was happening in the world. As though the fear and agony and depression obstructing the breath of society wasn’t there. As though those rapid heart beats and panic attacks and blackouts and the need for Ativan never happened. We danced and danced all over the kitchen. We laughed and laughed and told ourselves there was good in the world.

A fresh storm was coming and the snow was closing the corridor to California. The clouds piled up one on top of the other. Blending and merging until the pearly grey became inklike black and then void of color altogether when the sun gave up on the day.

I painted that brilliant sunrise tangerine on my paint-by-number painting and told myself it was acceptable to spend the day, maybe just today, Joyful For Existing At All.