Ten.One Thousand & Ten

1. It seems a little dark.

2. I make the bed while he grinds the coffee beans. Speaking of beans, where is that order? I’m sure it will be here sometime this week. Won’t it? Who knows. Who knows anything any more.

3. Double-check the campaigns and scheduled posts, yesterday’s sales. Write a list of questions that are really just for yourself.

4. I try to make a list of things that will be easy to get for Easter. There isn’t very much. Or there isn’t enough of the right things. Talking about getting groceries makes me anxious. Neither of us wants to go.

5. That cough.

6. I feel the anxiety in my throat again, and I don’t know what it is precisely, it’s just there. Again.

7. I read the email, and my eyes start to tear up, and then I run into the kitchen to tell him. It’s a big deal—a big deal for me.

8. I will not let this scare me.

9. I stir the onions and the celery and the garlic. Stir, stir, stir. Think of all that I still need to do.

10. I bring a tiny bowl of chicken noodle soup and the last glass of Chateau St. Michelle Dry Riesling. We laugh. We talk about the pandemic. We talk about how ourselves or people we know have been sick and whether or not it was the virus. We talk about food and books and airlines.

11. I wonder how long this will be how we talk. I agree with her; I am already beginning to get tired of being on the computer and doing this. And yet, it’s better than nothing. But I also wonder if we just need to learn how to be alone.

12. I’ve got work to do.