Week thirty-nine was slightly better than the previous week, but that’s mostly because I didn’t pay attention to the news. I just can’t even.
Sunday
Perhaps the hardest part of splitting with Brian has been splitting up our cat family. Sam is with me; Willow is with him. We know it’s best this way, but it’s still hard. I visited Willow and watched her play with the new toy Brian bought her, and while I want to see her and cuddle her and let her know that I still love her, part of me thinks it would be easier for all parties if we didn’t do tortuous visitations that open wounds just starting to heal over. She’s so cute, though…
Monday
My parents purchased some property up north. It came as a bit of a surprise to my brother and me, but they sound happier than they have in a long time when they talk about it, so Steven and I are all positive proclamations and affirmations whenever either of them asks our opinion about the whole thing. Out kayaking on water so still I felt I was in a painted picture hanging upside down, unsure where sky met earth met water, I didn’t want to think anything negative about the place anyway, let alone say anything negative. The atmosphere asks only for gratitude and offers serenity.
Tuesday
Tuesday I’ve been making the place my own so that I don’t feel his absence, but my own space. While this piece isn’t quite complete yet (my mom and I have to figure out what we’re going to do to the top… tile?) my dad constructed this credenza for me and I am in love with its purpleness.
Wednesday
I simply love all that this cat is. He kept me company while I recovered from my infusion. I suppose a picture of the hospital bed would have been a better representation of the day — or perhaps one of me hosting a Google Meet with a student while in the hospital bed. I kept my camera off, which I never do, and vaguely mumbled something about not being able to turn it on. Which is just this side of the blatant lie the kids frequently give about “the camera not working.” The infusion went well; blood pressure didn’t drop nearly as much as last time, though my temperature did go up a smidge.
My mom accompanied me because my family can’t stand the thought of me going alone. Though honestly, I think sometimes I’d prefer it. Not because my mom isn’t good company, but because I hate being taken care of. She made me perogies when we got back, though, and then left me to nap on my couch with my Sammy kii.
Thursday
My new salt and pepper shakers arrived!
In other news… I registered for a writer’s chat event with Bill Konigsburg thinking I’d just be listening in; I was NOT aware that I was going to be ON CAMERA and participating! When I joined, therefore, I was very surprised to see that we were a small group expected to have an actual discussion!
I loved it, though. Bill Konigsburg is pretty great. He’s very… human. Which is comforting. At one point, he was reading a small excerpt from his new book as an example of something we were discussing, and you could see and hear as he read on that he was losing confidence in the portion of the text he’d chosen. Slightly deflated as he reached the end of the final sentence, he turned to us and asked what we thought — if it was too cliche or too stereotypical in its description of the scene. I spoke up because I wanted to reassure him. The scene was perfect, he’d just forgotten that the way we do when choose to share something we’ve put so much of ourselves into. We second-guess what we were once confident in.
“But isn’t that the point?” I asked. “To show us that this character is noticing the very every day things the people around him are doing?” He looked down as he immediately responded, “I like Tiffany. I’m going to keep Tiffany around when I’m writing.” It was just such a human moment. This author who I seriously respect, exhibiting self-doubt and hoping for a little reassurance — not asking for it, but hoping for it. It gave me a dose of courage to keep pursuing my own writing. Because the self-doubt is normal, and there will be people who see what it has to offer.
Friday
This is his new spot. He laid there while I worked during the day and then again in the evening when I jumped on a Google Meet with my co-teacher to get some planning done. We called it a night at 8:30. That’s teacher life in a pandemic.
Saturday
Quick Note: Students at our school are put on teams. A team is a set of core teachers. As our school colors are red and white, the team names are simply the grade level plus one of the school colors. We have a 7 white, an 8 white, and a 7/8 red team. (I feel a little strange about calling students white kids and red kids, though, especially when you consider that we’re the “Red Devils,” but whatever. That’s not a battle I can fight right now.)
Teaching during a pandemic is also going into the building on a Saturday when no one else is around to work on a bulletin board. It’s not my best work (and it’s not finished because I need to get all the masks the kids designed and put them up around the board and over the lockers), but after an hour of squinting through the semi-darkness of the hallway, I just wanted to go home.