Two months ago, I gave my brother my treadmill. That was a mistake. Now when I run at the park, I have to go like a workhorse because it’s few and far between. Thankfully, I’m carb loading.
During my long runs, the conversations I have with myself
become even more active. My thoughts are too confined by my little mind, and
they just burst out of me. I see the usual people as I run around McKinley
Park, and inevitably make the mistake of waving hello to one or more of them,
and then awkwardly having to do it eight more times as we pass each other doing
our laps in opposite directions.
I ran by a car with a painted rear window. “Covid-19” was written in the middle and around it were things like “FCC” and “Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation” pointing to it. There was a blonde hippie lady in the front seat, just hanging out while spreading her message.
The start of this week, I was really rallying against the
government, irked by their deciding what is “essential” and what isn’t. I found
myself joining the anti-government bandwagon, thinking Californians are blindly
handing over their rights, and all the while patting themselves on the back for
it, repeatedly being told, how smart they are. Then, I read about doctors
claiming it’s way too soon to lift any social distancing policies, and I become
very confused. The most confusing part is how sure both sides are of
themselves. I can’t make heads or tails of it, and just like how we were all
led to feel compassion for vile Joe Exotic, I wonder why are were all led to
feel insecure about our forced shelter-in-place?
Animal Farm is free to read on Amazon Prime, and that seems
too coincidental. I took the bait, and read it to my kids. They didn’t
understand it, getting to the final pages my son asked me if Napoleon is a pig.
I was like, “Yeah G, that’s pretty important to the story.”
Kiki started muttering to herself while I read the other
night, and I asked her, “What was that?”
And she replied, “It’s nothing,” aggressively, like I was
interrupting her.
After she did it a couple times, I was relentless, “Kiki,
please, tell me what you’re talking about.”
She said, “Sometimes when I think about things, words just
come out. I don’t have anything to say though, really.”
I don’t know why I was angst at the beginning of the week;
shelter in place is not bad for me. I’m working, and enjoying quality family
time. My kids seem at ease with our very low stress lifestyle. Today my
daughter’s online therapy session was laughable. I half listened in the kitchen
because I’d occasionally need to intervene, after hearing the therapist say,
you probably shouldn’t put on so much make up. Then I walked into the room and
saw Kiki generously applying metallic blue eye shadow while staring at herself
on the videoconference screen.
I took away the make up and confidently told her, “You need
to listen to the doctor!”
Sitting in the backyard, I caught 11:11 on the clock. I
catch it pretty much daily. I could attribute it to having a clearer mind, and
being more in touch with the cosmos, or it could be that I am looking at my
phone 900% more than is recommended by the FCC. I announce the time, and the
kids loudly shout their wishes, G asking for 10,000 cats and Kiki asking for a
puppy. I make a silent wish, but it’s just as outlandish. We were dressed in
our finest tie-dye shirts, unplanned too. When I pointed it out to the kids,
they asked, what is tie-dye? I said, “It’s this brilliant rainbow like print on
our shirts. It helps you identify really nice people. Or the kind of people
that can’t help talking to themselves in the park, or the kind of person who
uses their rear window as a news platform.”
