Cafe Hitch-hike

2020-04-08

Things that pass

I was keeping a stiff upper lip, and then it fell off. Now it seems like my motivation is at a low at least one day of the week, and I've allowed myself that. Today, it was different. I woke up and went back to bed until 10, and then cleaned house. I got back to work stuff really, really late. At least I tried to create a video conferencing personal room for in-house communications, but for some reason, it didn't cooperate with me. I sent a help ticket, and now I wait.

I really polished the hell off some work projects, and then I just sputtered. I do need the friction of people to push me ahead. I seriously hate fucking online learning. I took online classes and find them to be devoid of significant interaction. Ok, so I read the things, do the exercises, and get a grade from some voiceless, faceless entity. The End.

I also have been hesitant to reach out. I don't know, it's not like I'm a dog with a zap-collar that gives me a jolt whenever I try to do something. The zap collar is in my head.

I tried getting a hold of my siblings. The only one who's been responsive has been my bro Deebo (and for whatever reason, he felt the need to fly to Michigan from Tampa). I'm still not talking to Princ, and I shrug about that; I can't help her with her issues if she doesn't even try to help herself. There were members of my family I liked talking to, but it got to a point where conversations centered around the latest drama or weirdness, and my D or W is nowhere near the level of theirs. The contrast is usually along the lines of me reporting home enhancements, as opposed to baby-daddy drama or the most recent altercation of sorts.

I got in touch with Bernardo. The poor guy is in Michigan's Ground Zero for the virus, and he is hunkering down. He stops by to see his daughter once a day, and he stands on the other side of the patio window, and they talk. He seriously hates that but is keenly aware of what could happen if they didn't take that precaution. And yes, it was nice to feel the warm glow, again, of someone from home.

My 8-year old niece gets in touch. She is seriously bored, and is home without her siblings. Her dad interacts with her, at least, but I'm sure Princ (her mother) is typically absorbed in other things.

I see that my last entry was deleted. Rafa came over this weekend, and we donned masks. I was more worried about his 85-year old father getting the virus from here, but my mom pointed out that he was just as likely to give it to me. We've been making the best of the stay-home orders with going outside to spots I know are good for hiking, eating home-cooked meals that are so good you'd cry, and then the occasional takeout (which I minimize because, well, duh!!). We sit besides each other with this uncertainty: what next? We are typically in good spirits when we're together, but the what next? is the quiet, underlying thing.

I just ate the last of the ropa vieja we ordered. I may move on to the carrot cake he left here a while ago (and is still good).


There I was, thinking that I'd get to kick ass with being productive with work crap. Well, I've been and I'm probably being as productive as my colleagues now (which I laugh about), and I guess it's ok. But, it's the uncertainty. I actually am worrying that I can get sick and die (and I don't want to, not when life's gotten seriously interesting and better). I had that weird dream in December where I was told by 2 different people I was going to die (and they were as nonchalant about it, as if they were scheduling me for a dental appointment). I guess when I consider the dream and the recent deaths in my family, the concept of mortality is a lot more acute!

Speaking of mortality, something knocked me in the head this week. I looked at my visit with Copperas last summer as revisiting a lot of things, especially happy stuff like first loves ('love,' not 'lay,' that was someone else, hahahah). Well, this virus stuff also led me to recall what else happened during that era. My father died at age 37 (and I was 17, a senior in high school).

I thought about that era, and sadly thought that my childhood was no cakewalk, but I finally concluded that my childhood ended in November 1990 (when he died among other things happening). We were estranged all my life, but his death was the final straw. During that era, I had a real boyfriend, my first love, a death, and then I was (willingly) deflowered. I remember having a death dream before my father died, too. In a way, a part of me did die. I was almost casually carried off into the next big part of my life.

Maybe all of that is happening right now, but in a different way. I got to revisit my first love, I got to revisit a recent and now-current love (Rafa), and my family had 2 fairly recent deaths. Hell, I can admit that I've been able to finally lay some heavy things to rest these past few months (not simply bury them, but... give is a service and space before the burial). Maybe last December, I sensed I was being carried away from one part of my life, and into another.

Well... in a way, life keeps us too busy to think of our mortality until things like the plague and deaths close to us hit us. I'll admit that it's hit me a lot harder, though...

downwind | upstream