It really is that kind of day. Again. Already. The trick will be how to keep each day from feeling like this, like Groundhog Day, another replay of the same routine. Wake up. Eat. Email. Projects. Exercise. Eat. Plan dinner. So we can later eat. Take a walk. Read. Call someone on the phone. Watch the Newshour at 3. Now it’s 4. Chores/projects. Dinner. Chores. “Better Call Saul” x 2 (we’re on Season 2 already, reruns). Read. Sleep. Repeat.
In some ways, that’s not so different from my regular routine unhindered by ShIP, I hate to admit. I usually work from home. It’s that I MUST stay home that makes it so awfully tiresome. Or worse. And that I can’t spend time with my family, friends, or even the community at large. Naomi Shihab-Nye’s reading that was cancelled this week. Judy Collin’s cancelled May concert.
Well, it just damn-well is the way it is.
I do realize that the flip side of this repetitive, “boring” rerun indicates how much is going well. Wonderfully, please-may-it-continue-to-be, well. The stability of health, #1, of food, shelter, and blessedly uninterrupted infrastructure. And I know that folks who are suddenly housebound and especially those now responsible for the active lives and education of their young children on top of jobs face an altogether different, exhausting challenge. Oh for some routine, some boredom! And those now facing lost income or worse, their jobs, wish stability would return.
We’re displaced. We’re all longing. Even though the object of our desire is different, and the degree, it does result from the same cause. We’re together in that.
Each of us figures out how to manage: daily, hourly, and if we’re honest, sometimes in the moment. Sometimes a hit, the next a miss. Here’s an idea for this one moment, since you’re here: Watch the video. Bill Murray is so funny. Sing along with Sonny and Cher, those cornballs. Loudly. And think about who and what you got.