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1. So, since it was an absolutely beautiful day outside, I decided to take my life in my hands and to FINALLY do LAUNDRY!
It's been approximately thirty-five days since the last time I did laundry. Basically the last time I had a period. This could work - just do laundry every 35 days. Laundry has become oddly anxiety inducing.
( a detailed account of doing laundry in a 77 unit apartment building during a pandemic )
Whew. Now, that's what I call ripping off an anxiety band-aid.
2. Since I managed that, and it was now past 4PM, I thought, I know, I'll go grocery shopping. No one will be there - they will be at the park. (I really don't why I keep thinking this? I mean I've gone on Saturday, after 4 PM previously, and there were people in the grocery store - a lot of people. You'd think I would learn? You'd think wrong.)
( a detailed account of grocery shopping in epidemic central )
3. After that I called my mother, who managed to give me an anxiety attack. Admittedly, I was kind of shaky to begin with.
( conversation with mother, and details on universities not opening in the fall... )
4. After said conversation, I decided to burn off the anxiety and take a walk. It was after 6PM. I've been taking my walks in the evening, when most people are inside or in their back or front yards chatting, eating dinner, etc. There's maybe ten to fifteen people out at this time, maybe less. And they are easier to avoid. Also most of them have masks on.
What hits me about this crisis - is the people who aren't wealthy are struggling. I'm actually doing okay, I have a job, and enough money in the bank. The people at the Food Town were the ones who can't do the delivery services or take out. Many are taking care of other people.
My heart went out to them. They were all doing their best like myself. The walk was good for me. I took pictures during it. Of all matter of things. Flowering trees, the soft waning sunlight filtering through trees and city streets, flowers and rocks decoratively placed in a tiny sidewalk garden, a mural on a wall - with a POC caregiver holding up a sign stating "Respect" in big red letters. The side of a Muslim Salon, that is on the opposite side of the street from a Hebrew Temple, with a NYC Express bus touting the logo "I Love New York" across its side. Soft feathering green and red leaves from trees, while others bloom in an array of bright pink blossoms. Tulips in reds, pinks, purples, and yellows decorate tiny yards, and small violets sit beside them, almost hidden in their shadows.
The air is crisp and clean through the mask, and I can breath easier - it's a thinner one than the ones I used doing laundry or grocery shopping. A blue and white surgical mask. Most wear them. Across the street in front of the house with all the signs pushing to stay the course - are three Asians with masks on, a tall woman, a girl, and a small boy, walking in a row, with bags hanging from their arms. While on the sidewalk that I'm walking upon, I pass a house with two couples chatting a space of three feet between them, no masks to hide their faces. In front of an assisted care facility, a tired woman sits playing with her phone, no mask, and randomly touches her hair. I'm far enough away for it not to matter.
The air feels good. The sky has a layer of clouds, with sun and bits of blue still filtering through - not as crisp and clean with narly a cloud to be seen - like earlier today. No in the evening hours, the city is quiet. The cars whisper by, and people pass silently, even those chatting talk in whispers or halt when someone passes by and looks at them, face half hidden except for the eyes.
It's been approximately thirty-five days since the last time I did laundry. Basically the last time I had a period. This could work - just do laundry every 35 days. Laundry has become oddly anxiety inducing.
( a detailed account of doing laundry in a 77 unit apartment building during a pandemic )
Whew. Now, that's what I call ripping off an anxiety band-aid.
2. Since I managed that, and it was now past 4PM, I thought, I know, I'll go grocery shopping. No one will be there - they will be at the park. (I really don't why I keep thinking this? I mean I've gone on Saturday, after 4 PM previously, and there were people in the grocery store - a lot of people. You'd think I would learn? You'd think wrong.)
( a detailed account of grocery shopping in epidemic central )
3. After that I called my mother, who managed to give me an anxiety attack. Admittedly, I was kind of shaky to begin with.
( conversation with mother, and details on universities not opening in the fall... )
4. After said conversation, I decided to burn off the anxiety and take a walk. It was after 6PM. I've been taking my walks in the evening, when most people are inside or in their back or front yards chatting, eating dinner, etc. There's maybe ten to fifteen people out at this time, maybe less. And they are easier to avoid. Also most of them have masks on.
What hits me about this crisis - is the people who aren't wealthy are struggling. I'm actually doing okay, I have a job, and enough money in the bank. The people at the Food Town were the ones who can't do the delivery services or take out. Many are taking care of other people.
My heart went out to them. They were all doing their best like myself. The walk was good for me. I took pictures during it. Of all matter of things. Flowering trees, the soft waning sunlight filtering through trees and city streets, flowers and rocks decoratively placed in a tiny sidewalk garden, a mural on a wall - with a POC caregiver holding up a sign stating "Respect" in big red letters. The side of a Muslim Salon, that is on the opposite side of the street from a Hebrew Temple, with a NYC Express bus touting the logo "I Love New York" across its side. Soft feathering green and red leaves from trees, while others bloom in an array of bright pink blossoms. Tulips in reds, pinks, purples, and yellows decorate tiny yards, and small violets sit beside them, almost hidden in their shadows.
The air is crisp and clean through the mask, and I can breath easier - it's a thinner one than the ones I used doing laundry or grocery shopping. A blue and white surgical mask. Most wear them. Across the street in front of the house with all the signs pushing to stay the course - are three Asians with masks on, a tall woman, a girl, and a small boy, walking in a row, with bags hanging from their arms. While on the sidewalk that I'm walking upon, I pass a house with two couples chatting a space of three feet between them, no masks to hide their faces. In front of an assisted care facility, a tired woman sits playing with her phone, no mask, and randomly touches her hair. I'm far enough away for it not to matter.
The air feels good. The sky has a layer of clouds, with sun and bits of blue still filtering through - not as crisp and clean with narly a cloud to be seen - like earlier today. No in the evening hours, the city is quiet. The cars whisper by, and people pass silently, even those chatting talk in whispers or halt when someone passes by and looks at them, face half hidden except for the eyes.