notjustaboutsex

Chronicles of Covid, episode 367CHRONICLES OF COVID Episode 367

Clearly my goal of doing one of these revelatory reports every day during isolation has gone asunder, what with the more pressing obligation of avoiding noticing my weight gain while at the same time, making sure I have plenty of Panda’s Australian licorice (both noir and strawberry) in stock.

So why do I feel compelled to write today? I’m certainly not bored, what with not one, but two zoom classes on how to perform Shakespeare for your dog. I’ve also mastered the art of making Rice Crispies soak up the milk really fast so that the white stuff doesn’t spill out of the bowl while eating in bed (did I mention that it’s so quiet you can actually hear the snap, crackle and pop?) And best … I even made it through a birthday without the usual fanfare of insisting my friends show up for what I often think of as the Last Supper.  I’m learning to become my best friend.

All in all, a successful week or whatever we call this stretch of endless days. I’m feeling so good about myself that I defended Donald Trump’s refusal to wear a mask. Clearly, he does not want to create more tan lines on his face and we all know how hard it is to get Maybelline’s Sunkiss Glow off a N95.

So, with renewed spirit I took a walk. My mask was one of my looser ones; having stretched out the ear elastic I had to bobby pin it to my hood. Luckily, in my neighborhood most people wear their pajamas on the street until about 330 pm, so I wasn’t the least embarrassed.

It was windy on the east river and when I got far enough away from other potential disease carriers, I lifted the side of my mask and let some of that good New York air into my nasal fortress. Ah it was nice.

I noticed one fellow in the baseball field doing an exercise with two long strands of black rubber. He shook it endlessly until it looked like a dancing infinity symbol and I was impressed with his strength, despite having skinny white arms.

Taking a rest, I sat on a bench for 20 minutes unfriending people I disagreed with on Facebook and then decided to meditate before I’d have no friends left. The British voice on the meditation told me to appreciate this time by slowly looking at the sky and noticing everything slowly. An opportunity was being afforded all of us to see things anew. With those thoughts I started back home when I spotted a tiny rose bush. I bent down, adjusted my mask and breathed in the little pink bud. To my delight, it smelled like a real flower. I don’t know when I smelled such an aroma last other than at Bed Bath and Beyond. This was how flowers always used to smell before they were harvested by the slave trade. Just to be certain I wasn’t hallucinating; I took another whiff and and then tightened up my mask. I really needed that rose scent.

My lesson for the day was twofold. Always try to remember to look up at the sky and just as important, brush the teeth before going out for a walk with a mask. The exhales can be quite rough, but only your best friend will tell you the truth.