Yes, totally fine.

How’s my pandemic going? The tl;dr? I have become the human embodiment of that crazy-eyed cartoon dog in the flaming room. Fine. Totally, totally fine.

Let the list below be more than an iceberg-tip of an answer. I’ve reached the phase of the pandemic where …

  • I have placed my first Drizly order.
  • I started planning my second Drizly order before I uncorked the first bottle of the first order.
  • I have given up all the I’m-stuck-at-home-but-I’m-totally-handling-this-lockdown-like-a-boss things I’d kept up for the whole of last year.
  • I am no longer comforted by chocolate.
  • I have added more than a dozen fountain pens to my already outsized collection.
  • With the exception of graphic novels, I have gone all-audio-books-all-the-time. The attention and energy required to hold a book, to turn page after page has become far too much.
  • I have proven to myself that yes, I can eat a quart of ice cream in a day … or, to be most exact: I can eat two of the no-longer-a-full-pint containers that ice cream makers sell now and charge more for than they used to charge for a pint and act as if we won’t notice the difference.
  • I have purchased not one, not two … but four manual typewriters.
  • I have binged every episode of Forged in Fire on Netflix. Yes, the reality show/competition for blacksmiths. And that’s because I’d already gone through both seasons of Blown Away, the glass-blowing reality show/competition.

Again, to be most exact: Forged in Fire is about bladesmithing. The contestants spend all of their time making various knives, spears and other killing tools, the testing of their weapons involves a lot of fake blood and a judge who grins and offers the reassurance that their tools, “will kill.” It’s a weird-ass show. And I have already searched “blacksmith training near me” and found two different forges that offer classes. I don’t need a new craft, a new hobby. And certainly not one that could cause serious bodily harm. But I also need skills to carry into the post-apocalypse that are more useful than being the crotchety old lady shouting for kids to get off her lawn.

We’re closing in on a year of lockdown. It’s hard to believe. It feels both longer and shorter, feels both impossible and obvious. And realizing that the one-year mark is about to come up also made me realize that March is practically here, which means back-to-back months of daily blogging for Slice of Life and National Poetry Month. When I’ve been doing almost no writing for a year. It has taken me over an hour to scrape this bit of fluff together. And I’m supposed to post 61 days in a row? Wishing me luck!

9 thoughts on “Yes, totally fine.

  1. Terje

    The 4 manual typewriters puzzle me more than anything else. I can’t imagine what a year of lockdown would do to me. It is abnormal challenge for any human. I hope that the month of writing in March would shine some light into your life, and perhaps chocolate will become comforting again. For me your voice in this slice shows a strong and honest spirit.


    1. Yes, the typewriters are … curious. 🙂

      I do have light in my life, which the post I’ll try to stay awake long enough to write tonight will show. It’s all the things, right? The good and the frustrating, the fun and the exhausting …

      I like what you hear in my voice. That makes me smile. Thank you. 🙂


  2. Good luck with your two upcoming March challenges. There’s something about March: Springtime, NCAA basketball, Texas wildflowers. It’s truly a breath of fresh air. I liked your last paragraph’s contrasting words, “It feels both longer and shorter, feels both impossible and obvious.” I definitely could relate in today’s crazy world where we can celebrate our first anniversary working from home.


    1. Our first anniversary working from home. Yes, I never thought this would be me … even given all the times I’ve thought how much I’d enjoy being able to work from home! I don’t hate it, but I really miss my office, too. Wishing you well as this anniversary approaches. 🙂


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