Thursday, April 16, 2020

Well, I did write at least 3 lines a day for (most of) 30 days, and so now I have a few more than 90 lines.
I only went outside once today, to walk the dog in the early morning, and the inactivity was not good for me.
I don’t know if I’m becoming a better version of myself or getting worse, and with that I’m going to stop.

Last
three
lines.

Wednesday, April 15, 2020

My body woke me up an hour early today, perhaps so I could stare the whole time at a line of moonlight from a crack in the drapes, falling on the back of your head.
My left shoulder has frozen again, and two years worth of physical therapy and a cortisone shot later I find myself back in pain, unable to reach out to you like before.
My tongue prefers the taste of cherry flavored antacids, my right calf swells and bruises under a varicose vein, my penis remains soft despite bottles of saw palmetto.

So this is 46, I think.
So this is a pandemic.
So this is you, me, today.

Tuesday, April 14, 2020

Reportedly, it is neurologically impossible to participate in a videoconference while scrolling a social media feed.
Which is to say, maybe back in high school I should have taken that home ec class and learned how to knit and sew.
Regardless, I’ve been up way past my bedtime two nights in a row now, and this nonessential worker is not available.

Monday, April 13, 2020

I read a tweet that said high BMI is currently being used to exclude fat people from ventilator treatment due to the pandemic shortage.
I seize on a memory of multiple Burger King drive-thru workers threading their arms in and out the window to hand me a credit card reader and stylus, a soft drink, a large bag of food, extra napkins and packets of ketchup, and then abruptly withdrawing.
I always reimagine this memory as if I’m on the ER table, multiple doctors and nurses and anesthesiologists threading their arms across me to hand each other wires, tubes, tape, surgical implements, and then abruptly withdrawing just before I too withdraw.

I’m in the park and two kids are racing their mechanical dunebuggy across the dirt infield of the baseball diamond, kicking up a cloud of dust.
I’m on a video call with my communications colleagues and at the end of the meeting, which ran long, nobody seems to want to leave the meeting.
I’m in the backyard sitting next to my wife, the dog is nearby in the grass, the afternoon sun is on our backs, a ladybug lands on my cheek.

Sunday, April 12, 2020

Easter Sunday was for taking two naps, paying our tax bills, and eating leftovers.
We strung two wires to a newly staked post and tied our grapevine canes to the wires.
The backyard is bursting with lemon and orange blossoms, and ladybugs are everywhere.