Hello, everybody. Hope you and your loved ones are healthy and safe. If you want to know some of my random brain-thoughts, when we are allotted too much time for brain-thoughts, please feel free to read along. If not, that’s quite alright. I won’t be offended.
I don’t do my hair or wear make-up but I didn’t really do those things before (when I could help it). I thought I would like this; as a self-professed homebody. I imagined time at home, no-excuses-necessary, would be heaven sent.
I didn’t realize how much of my day required the outside world. How much I would miss my friends, my nightly socializing, walking into a grocery store, brunch at Time Out Market, going into work...the things you take for granted.
It’s almost May. And I remember where I was last almost-May; the things I worried about, the way I spent my days. This is a different world.
And so I’m doing the day-by-day song and dance and holding my loved ones a little tighter. I wake in gratitude, for the things we have. I’m practicing my breathing and trying to remind myself that this, like everything, is only temporary. And, boy, will these be stories to tell some day.
A Closed-Letter to Corona Virus (it would be an open letter but nothing's open anymore),
It feels universal: that gnawing pit behind the belly-button, the rock by the larynx, the heaviness behind the eyes. As a child, I think you dream of the day the world stops: No school, your parents staying home, making pillow-forts and reading The Little Prince. It sounds fanciful and full of snacks before snack-time and sneaking chocolate chips from cookie batter. But, the reality of the world stopping is far more bleak. It's staring at screens and cabin fever. It's becoming a sore loser and missing routine. But worse, yet, it isn't just you playing hooky on a Tuesday, it's week-after-week, with no end in-sight. It's jobs that stop paying, it's plans you can't plan for.
And sometimes the un-planning of plans, years in the works, makes it hard to breathe. The build-up, the expectation, the why is this happening to me? But when the selfishness subsides, it's like grasping at straws, sometimes, but there is something
In a world where we have lost so much sense of community, to all be experiencing so much of the same feelings, in real-time, it sobering.
This is Me:
My name's Melissa. I'm the girl with her hands in her journal.