Hello, dear readers! I woke up this morning completely convinced it was Friday (despite the fact that I took Monday off from work), but have since figured out that it is, in fact, Thursday, so here we are.
My parents came to visit last weekend, and that was nice. We all stayed masked except when we ate, which felt a little strange – it was also the first time we had anyone besides us in our apartment since March, so that was also a little strange. But it was nice. My dad hung curtain rods for us, so now after a year of living in this apartment without window coverings, we finally have curtains!
It feels very dreamy and ethereal in here right now, and I’m into it.
We went for a walk around the neighborhood, which was also nice-but-strange, as between the late summer heat and the pandemic I had been inside most of the time lately.
My parents also brought me a couple of boxes of my old stuff that were still taking up space at their house. One box had blankets and stuffed animals and “baby’s first year” things in it, and the other had yearbooks and bibles and some other miscellaneous stuff:
I haven’t dug too deeply into this box yet. It’s a little surreal seeing those yearbook photos. It often feels like those years happened to someone else (I’m working through that in therapy these days). But I’m looking forward to taking my time and remembering some parts of my history that have been lost for a while.
I hope all of you are hanging in there. It’s been a hard week, between Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg’s passing and the total lack of consequences for the officers who killed Breonna Taylor, to say nothing of the upcoming election and a president who’s increasingly blatant about his desire to be a dictator. Be gentle with yourselves, and also, let’s put that sorrow and rage to good use.