NaPoWriMo asked for a memory with details. That’s sorta dangerous – you never know what might pop into view. After a few days struggling with remembering what day it is, I was strong in my belief this morning that it was indeed Wednesday. I was sick at the very beginning of COVID. I went to a lecture on a Tuesday feeling punk and spent a couple weeks being really sick. Went to get a doctor’s note to go back to work and everything got shut down the next day.
It’s true that shut down was an introvert’s dream and I had lots to amuse myself. Yes there was worry and trying to figure out how to get food etc but days with no retail crowds? Yes please. This was not true for one of my managers who had given everything up apparently for the chance to micromanage people. If we were unruly before, now we were unreachable. I finally had to suggest that she find something that gave her some pleasure and comfort. As I recall, she mentioned she had once played the flute.
During Lockdown
Wednesday, always a bit weepy
ever since we had to stay home
for weeks and months, years wasn’t it?
mom just hungering for a hug
My manager with no one to manage
found out we were fine without her
and while checking on me by phone
sobbed out her realizations
Often having done the make-work
I’d get in the car and go paint
folks walking along too worried
distant waves and nice to see you
The phone rang – where are you, she asked
I’m out painting. It’s my weekend
