in the quiet
When everything changed, I was standing outside a mattress store.
I’d just had lunch at a local poke place, and I was standing outside the mattress store across the street. It was Sunday, the Sunday before I bought my house, and I was contemplating going inside to shop for a guest bed.
My work phone pinged. It was a coworker, asking for some updates to a page on a site I manage. I looked at the mattress store, thought meh, guest bed can wait. The store will be there later. Earlier that day, at Costco, I had decided to wait on buying a big pack of toilet paper, because my cart was already full. It’ll be there later.
I told my coworker that I’d be home in half an hour, and didn’t go to the mattress store.
Six weeks later, and I still haven’t gotten a big package of toilet paper from Costco. I got a package of one-ply—the only kind Target had—about a month ago.
Pandemic toilet paper. Funny old world, isn’t it?
I decided to buy a house in December. I found a house to buy in January. I went to Seattle at the end of January, and came back and closed on the house in February. My parents came to visit right afterwards.
I moved to my new house in early March. A few days later, I started working from home.
Until further notice, which has become until whenever. I still don’t have a guest bed, which is okay because I’m unlikely to be hosting guests any time soon. I am baking bread, like everyone else. My sourdough starter died after four days, so I’m going to try again.
My first month of this, I was working so much and so hard that I didn’t really have time to breathe, much less feel any of the weirdness of what life is right now. And now…I feel lucky. I finished moving before things got bad. I am rediscovering the fact that I can cook. There’s a lot that’s on hold—there are things I planned to do to the house that I can’t really until things start opening again, plans that have been put on hold or canceled entirely. My dentist and eye doctor appointments were canceled. The place I go to get my hair dyed is closed. Not sure when I’ll get to see my endocrinologist again.
Where are we going to be in three months? Six? Next year?
Summer’s here already in Texas. The bug bite that I got last May is almost finished healing, nearly a year later. This state and I, maybe we can live with each other for a bit.
It’s now April 26th, and I have now managed to get my hands on a large package of nice toilet paper. So there’s one thing that’s back to normal, at least.
I sit in the silence. I am lucky.
I am lucky.
I am lucky.
