Cruel, Cruel Summer

It is good to set yourself some goals. My current goal is to sit on every chair in this house. I have been living here for nearly five years and I haven’t done that yet. I already reached my previous goal, which was to figure out how to turn the overhead fan in the family room on and off. I have modest goals.

I recently had tests for COVID and antibodies right here in my town. The tests were free and the lines not long. Having someone stick the swab up my nose was ok, and the blood draw was fine, but no one told me I would have to divulge my height and weight! I also had my temperature and blood pressure taken and my heart and lungs checked. I waited a week to find out that I am a negative person, and I’m positive I want to stay that way!

In my next life I am coming back as someone rich enough to have a chef AND a nutritionist, people to plan, cook and serve my meals and then someone to clean up afterwards so all I have to do is sit back and enjoy the wonderful, healthy food. "Tina’s Diner" is getting really old after so many months of taking inventory, planning, shopping, storing, cooking and cleaning up. My mother used to get mad at us when we nagged her, “What’s for dinner?” in those whiny, annoying kid voices. “What am I running here, Sylvia’s Diner?” she would reply. I get it now, Ma, I get it.

I hardly ever use mustard. I don’t even like it on my hotdogs. So every time I do use it, I have to check the expiration date to make sure it is still good (and stop telling me that date is just the “sell by” date and not the “use by” date; I know, I know). I squirted a few dollops into my egg salad the other day, opening up a new jar to do it. When I checked the expiration date, I realized I had five whole days to use up this container. “Alexa, put mustard on my shopping list.”

We are six months into the quarantine (or semi- at this stage), and I am still counting out squares of toilet paper, rationing paper towels and coaxing the very last bit of toothpaste out of the tube. Don’t ask me why. I can’t even answer that question.

Remember when you could go to the produce aisle in the supermarket and paw your way through the bin with cherries to find the darkest and firmest ones? Now they are all in plastic bags that weigh way more than the amount of cherries one person can eat. I usually tote a few bags to the scale for comparison purposes to try to find the smallest, lightest bag, but they are all too heavy, which means I either buy a bag and end up throwing half away or just don’t buy them at all. I miss cherries.

Two people recognized me at ShopRite recently despite the fact that I was wearing a mask and a hat. My powers of observation are not nearly as keen.

I had yet another Zoom call the other day. I changed my top, brushed my teeth and was about to give myself a spritz of perfume when I realized no one would know. And I actually put on a necklace and a pair of earrings – which meant the holes in my ears haven’t closed up yet!

I keep thinking of the Bruce Springsteen song, “Dancing in the Dark,” and the lyric, “Man, I’m so tired and bored with myself.” I’m not sure I will remember how to interact with people once restrictions are lifted across the board. And I’m pretty sure there are a few people I won’t want to interact with even when I can.

I know a few people who have been social distancing for decades. Are they introverts, recluses or just happy to avoid people? I guess they consider themselves ahead of the curve.

I have the annoying habit of jotting down a phone number but not the name associated with it or a link that I want to access without noting why. I need to work on that. 

Even Alexa is getting bored. The other day, out of the blue, she mentioned that I had not asked her to set an alarm in quite a while. I guess she hasn’t quite figured out that I’m not going anywhere.

Sometimes I feel like I spend half my time unsubscribing from emails that I didn’t subscribe to in the first place. I haven’t had a subscription to Better Homes and Gardens in a few years, but today I randomly received an email from them with recipes and an opportunity to get even more email from them. Where’s that UNSUBSCRIBE button?

Of course, if you order something – anything – and provide your email info, you can count on getting updates on the order and regular promos and messages from the company daily/weekly/monthly until you unsubscribe. 

If I did have to travel now, it would take me even longer than usual to pack. I’m not sure I would remember how.

Not that I plan to go on a cruise in the near future (or maybe ever again), but gone are the days of the all-you-can-eat buffet. I cannot imagine standing on a line with people grabbing food randomly. And at my next birthday, no candles in the cake, please!

I am not even wearing a watch anymore. I’m home most of the time, surrounded by clocks, with the time displayed on my phone, and does anybody really know what time it is? Does anybody really care?

My kitchen clock stopped working a few months ago and I took it off the wall, intending to find a place to have it repaired (it was my 25-year gift from J&J, so it has sentimental value), but I don’t know if anyone is providing that service right now. I wish I had a dollar for every time I looked at that blank space on the wall – because then I would have enough money to buy a new and better clock, one that works, assuming that I will feel safe enough to leave the house and venture into a store other than ShopRite, where I know they sell sheets and towels and where I bought my new TV (at a bargain price), but where I doubt they have a selection of clocks from which to choose. 

My ability to concentrate has improved from the initial shock of the lockdown, so I am reading more now. There is something truly wonderful about finding a book that you really love and can’t put down. “One more chapter,” you tell yourself as you squeeze out extra time to read. It could be the story, the characters or the setting, no matter. You savor every page even as you rush through it to see what happens, and then you are sorry when you have finished. Settling down with an engrossing book is just such a pleasure!

I always buy striped sheets so I don’t have to figure out which way they go on my bed.

You know what is annoying? You search for ONE THING online and you see a torrent of Facebook ads for that or similar items. And the ads often say, “Last Chance,” “Only a few left,” or other things to get you to buy NOW. And yet they run the same ad with the same “special discount price” for weeks or longer. 

I’m so happy to have real sports back on the air (no more Cornhole Tournaments for me), but I had to watch three different channels to see three different WNBA games on opening day, and I had trouble finding the Yankees game. I wish they still had all of their games on one network and that Michael Kaye was the announcer for every Yankee game. It is sure strange to watch sports with no live spectators in the stands. Will every foul ball remain where it lands for eternity?

I never realized how many stupid and racist people there are in this country. It’s like being pregnant – until you show, no one knows, and it’s not like someone is going to say, “Guess what? I’m really stupid,” or “I’m a racist,” although most people who are either will deny it. Now it’s right out there for everyone to see.

By the way, if you believe that coterie of quack doctors who advocate the use of hydroxychloroquine and talk about demon sex, I suggest you follow their advice completely, take their supposed cure, down a big gulp of bleach, shine a flashlight up your butt and serve as the guinea pigs for this kind of treatment of COVID-19. And make sure your will is up-to-date.

I’ll end on a serious note. Here we are, well into our sixth month of mostly quarantine, enduring a long, hot summer, and still facing restrictions on social gatherings (and I’m not blaming the governor for that call). The tennis courts and pool in my what used to be my “active” adult community remain closed, as does our clubhouse, with the gym, indoor pool, billiards and card rooms. You can go to the town library – but you can only stay for 15 minutes. Movie theaters are closed, and while Kohl’s and the mall are open, I would not venture to either place. My neighbors and I have had an outdoor book club meeting once but are using Zoom most of the time to discuss what we have read. I am personally still leery of doing anything as simple as dining outside – although I know many people have switched to that model. Yes, plenty of people have loosened their personal restrictions, but we each have to do what makes us feel comfortable, and I’m not ready yet to go out for anything other than takeout and necessities. I just can’t put a trip to Chico’s in that category. I’m still afraid we will be on lockdown again because the idiots at the shore who have 500-person parties usually cause infection rates to spike. I’m staying busy with my alumnae work, and I’m reading and writing, going to webinars and watching plenty of TV shows and movies, but I’m missing the joys of life as I spend so much time alone. I worry about my friends who are teachers, about other’s children, and about myself. I mourn the 160,000 people who have died from COVID and my heart breaks for their families. I miss my friends and their hugs. Like everyone else, I wish I knew when this will end.