I've written before about the difficulty during these times remembering what day of the week it is. I was speaking to a friend who, like me, has been furloughed since mid March, "Every day is Tuesday" she quipped. She returns to an abbreviated schedule this week. I, by contrast, am going on 13 weeks of furlough with no return date announced yet.
Everyday becomes a vessel to fill as best one can. By mid June Chicago temperatures are moderate enough for me to enjoy being outdoors. According to several eye witness reports, although the lakefront is officially closed, there are a number of citizens choosing to ignore that. I may engage in this form of non violent civil disobedience later this week as temperatures are predicted to reach torrid levels.
I have watched mini series and movies. New releases, classics, a few "art house" pieces, plus, I'll admit, my fair share of trash. Our house is pristine, buttons have been sewn back onto the shirts they came from, silver has been polished, in some cases brought back from a near hopeless condition. I have taken bike rides and naps. I had lunch with a friend, a moment of near normalcy.
Generally I am quite efficient. My hectic schedule, in normal times, requires me to be so. In these not so normal times I go to Walgreens, then the cleaners, then walk 9 flights upstairs to our apartment, with gyms closed the fire stairs are my personal stairmaster, them ponder what I can do to kill time until tomorrow.
Even my work days (which felt different from each other) now blur into one type with variance.
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