Sunday afternoon I took a long, 3 mile walk to and from the CVS on the other side of town where everyone is nice. It was warm enough to get away with just my denim jacket, which looks fabulous with one of the four fabric masks I got on Etsy.*
I noticed trees beginning to bud against the Cubbie blue sky.
I listened to Michael Prichard read a book on tape -- I happened upon some cassettes I don't remember ever listening to -- and I love him as the voice of Archie in the Nero Wolfe audiobooks.
I saw a little girl playing in the front yard with her mom, wearing a most improbable outfit -- bare feet, horizontal striped leggings, and a dress I recognized as Belle's from Beauty and the Beast. She reminded me so much of my niece at that age that my heart swelled. The little one and her mom appreciated my praise -- delivered from 6', of course -- for her highly-original fashion choices.
I chose birthday and Mother's Day cards to accompany the truly terrific gift I have for my aunt: a spiral bound cookbook from 1987, put together to raise money for the local Lutheran church, featuring two of my grandmother's recipes.
I realized I am happy and I am lucky.
I feel good. In the age of pandemic, every day spent not sick is a good day.
There's no baseball, but it's still spring, and spring can be pretty.
I have a job, and a paycheck will be direct deposited into my account this coming Thursday.
My medical coverage is very good. It enables me to have a teleconference with my as-yet-unmet new doctor Monday (which I have high hopes for) and weekly telephone sessions with my new shrink.
My fur family -- aka Reynaldo and Connie -- is doing well.
There's so much suffering out there. I got a call from my friend John while I was in the probiotic aisle and I listened to his message on the way home. He's getting a little weird, all alone by himself. And people right here in Chicagoland are still getting sick and dying every day from the corona virus. I don't want to lose sight of that.
And as you know if you read this post, I've fallen prey to the blues myself.
But I'm also my mother's daughter. The thing I admired most about my mom was her ability to isolate and enjoy the moment she was in, no matter what.
That was me on Sunday. Let others bitch and moan about living in "a police state." I was happy and proud to serve my country by wearing a mask as I walked through town, listening to an old familiar voice through my headphones, watching a joyous little girl twirl in a silly outfit, and buying cards for my aunt.
*I only paid for two. The first package got lost in the mail and the maker/seller replaced them at no cost to me. When the first package finally arrived, she refused payment, telling me to just enjoy and be safe. Therefore, I want to plug Tough Cookie Clothing again and again. If you need another mask, check her out.