Week Twenty-Four was not my best week.
Sunday
The fresh air at the top of the ski hill was needed. At least I got out and walked.
Monday
I’m not sure what this funky thing is. I mean, I’m assuming it’s a caterpillar? But I’m not sure what type and I’m a little afraid of him.
Tuesday
I needed to get out of the house. Badly. I talked to Nick and Ashley during my walk about how SHOOK my world was because of the JKR debacle. Which made me feel utterly ridiculous. Like, really?? How privileged am I? Her comments weren’t even about me. I’m over here upset because a person I thought I could stand behind — an author of a book series, not a congresswoman or a civil rights leader or the president — disappointed me? Fuck. I need to get my shit together.
Anywho… I met this little twirdie on my walk. I was making my way down a side street (I’m not sure which one), when some movement flickered in my peripherals. This baby robin had gotten stuck in someone’s porch. I decided I’d knock to let the people know, but you had to walk through the enclosed space to get to their main door, so I just scooped the little twird up. It fought me at first, trying frantically to bite me despite me talking sweetly to it (it’s almost like it couldn’t understand English). But as my finger sat in his beak, I said, “Dude. You have no teeth.” And then he calmed down and I was able to walk him outside. He stood on my hands a moment, unsure if he was really free, then he flew off.
I miss him. I feel like we got to know each other a little in those few minutes.
Wednesday
Willow hasn’t been feeling great this week. Neither have I, but in a very different way. She’s been having episodes because of her liver shunt; I’ve just been really down. But we cuddled in and helped each other get through the evening.
Thursday
Actual people. I spent some time with actual people. I suppose that means I have to reset my Corona Clock and make sure no symptoms show themselves in the next fourteen days. We stayed outside and didn’t get all up in each other’s spaces (though these two got together for this pic because they’re both leaving), but we were still more lax with the guidelines than we should have been. It had been an incredibly long few days. Few weeks. Few months. And we needed a few laughs and a few glasses of wine.
Friday
This is not the image I wanted to share. I wanted to share a pic of my grandma’s smiling face. But that image was only in my imagination. Grammy fell again. Her health is deteriorating. And it totally sucks because we’re not able to spend any time with her. I picked her up from the emergency room and brought her back to the senior living complex she currently calls home (though not for much longer), and wasn’t allowed inside either place. The poor woman, who’s been increasingly confused and paranoid, had to be alone without people who love her. I understand it’s for everyone’s safety, and I certainly don’t want to put her at increased risk, but it’s also incredibly sad.
I woke up to texts from my mom with pictures of my grandma’s wounds — her lacerations and bruises. It was a nice way to start my day (which was off to a very late start because I hadn’t slept well and didn’t want to muster the energy to get my ass out of bed). And the day only got worse. Long faculty Google Meets, frustrations with the IT department, and last-minute decision making by admin forcing me into Crisis Corner (the spot you’re stuck in when someone else’s poor planning results in a stress-inducing deadline for you). Good morning.
Then waiting for me downstairs was the anxiety of my non-boyfriend (officially ex, but still roomie) over our cat’s health, a distressed furry friend, and a slobbish state of affairs that exacerbated my own anxieties.
Then came the phone calls, group messages, and strings of texts from family, coworkers, friends… I wanted to scream at the world to leave me the fuck alone. But what did I actually do? I ventured onto social media, where the woes of the world wanted my attention. Rookie mistake, Azzarito.
I did eventually throw my phone to the other end of the couch and binge-watch Netflix for approximately eight hours (well into the night), but only after I got my grandma safely back to Brookdale and updated my mom and aunts. And only after I let myself get worked up over every shitty thing I don’t have control over and then wallowed in self disgust as I looked at the list of workouts I skipped the last few weeks — the things I do have control over, but have failed to do. I shoved some pizza and chips in my face, blatantly snubbing my nose at my dietary restrictions, and let myself fall into a stupor while a headache throbbed behind my temple.
The truth is, the dark mood was there before the texts from my mom, before the long faculty meet, before the tech and admin frustrations. It was there before my cat started having an episode, before my non-boyfriend laid his anxieties at my feet, before I walked downstairs and was defeated by the mess. It was there before I picked up my grandma and listened to her confused comments and shaky voice. It was there before I let social media take me down its dark rabbit hole. Because lately the whole damn world has felt like a dark rabbit hole.
Saturday
My kittens don’t mind that I’m unmotivated, though. So there’s that.