quarantined-ish day 36
Quarantined-ish Day 36
Wednesday, April 22, 2020 - OKC, OK
4:04am
I surprise myself by making it out of my house with everything I need for the first part of the morning. I spend the next two and a half hours baking and checking the weather for the morning run.
6:44am
Today is Walnut Bridge Hill Sprints Day, though the word sprint is a bit generous. The last time I ran hills, was over a year ago. It was the first of six tibial stress fractures to come in 2019. Very nearly in the same breath, Wendy asks me not to kill her on the bridge and then suggests we do no less than twenty. I remind her of the osteo-shit-show that was last year and tell her that my minimum goal is four and a fifth would be bonus. I end up with eight total - no pain, but also no breath. All of this excites me, and I already can’t wait for next week. We do a cool down walk through downtown to satisfy our procrastination need.
7:54am
I am almost back to Elemental when Contagion texts a dire need for coffee. If I drank an entire bottle of wine, I think I’d need a sedative. I stay and make crust in the name of helping Elena. Really, it’s just procrastination because I’m sick of my laptop. It’s blurring my eyes, and I can’t get new glasses until COVID is over.
10:00am
I make a green smoothie. It’s brown. How?!?!
10:35am
A student of mine texts me, and it reminds me of how much I miss them. That wasn’t her purpose, but that was the effect. Must focus now.
5:30pm
Am thankful for blah weather, as it’s kept me working when I want to be moving. Use what you’ve got is what I always say. Or I don’t ever say that, but it’s appropriate in these moments. I teach another IG live class wearing my Smokey the Bear shirt because it’s Earth Day. Or, because it was on top of the pile of folded shirts. A fortuitous accident, but I’m pleased about it.
7:42pm
I sit on my bed and free flow write. I’m stuck, and it’s nonsense. I notice and appreciate the lack of frustration about it. The seasons of writing - long and short - is a lesson I’ve had to learn repeatedly before it stuck. In the words of every grandmother ever, this too shall pass.
