May: "Gang Aft Agley"
"The best laid schemes o’ Mice an’ Men
Gang aft agley,
An’ lea’e us nought but grief an’ pain,
For promis’d joy!"
from To a Mouse by Robert Burns
I have been learning, lately, how it seems like fate only exists to be tempted. When my ex got sick with Covid in March of 2020, I would often think, "I don't know what I'd do if I were single and living with roommates and had this." As it happens, that's exactly the situation I'm in now, and I'm learning exactly what to do.
No week is a good week to get sick, but this week I had several things planned that I was looking forward to: a cat-sitting gig, a concert, a wedding. I was going to get on my bike this week. I found a yoga studio I wanted to check out. Then on Tuesday, I got walloped with a migraine and a bad fever. I said, "wow, I should make sure this isn't Covid," and got a rapid and a PCR test. (I tested positive for Covid at Christmastime with no symptoms.) My rapid came back negative. I felt better Wednesday, and spent all morning talking to friends etc. about the above plans, trying to figure my life out, ignoring the start of a cough. "It's probably not Covid." Then the PCR came back positive Wednesday afternoon, and the fates laughed and laughed at me.
This wasn't the "new apartment/breakup" email I wanted to send. I didn't want to announce a new way of life and some new Target tchotchkes in the same coughing breath where I let folks know that Covid "finally got me." I wanted to say, look, I landed on both feet, look, I'm okay. And: I am okay, I did land on both feet. I have all the supplies and care I need, I promise. But man, what a blower!
Mostly I come to your inbox to say, here's a 35mm picture I took last month. I edited it down to a 6x7 ratio so it wouldn't take up your whole phone screen. I don't have fancy Covid takes. I am not a scientist and I'm not going to pretend I know anything I don't. I do know that I set out to do a bunch of stuff with my first day "off," including reading/replying to emails I have been putting off, and in the middle of doing that, I caught myself giving advice to a friend that I needed to hear myself: "Sometimes your purpose is to relax!" So that's what I've done all day. Are we over Covid diaries as an art concept yet? I'll spare you.
So, a 35mm picture. This was from when I tested out an old camera that nearly got left at my ex's place. All of my cameras are with me now. I wrote a poem a day all month, last month, and my friends in my writing group did the same thing. I have a loose goal to do something with those poems while I'm stuck inside, but again, I'm not holding myself to much this week. I'm hoping to be well by the time Jami Attenberg leads her upcoming 1000 Words of Summer project so that I can write some focused fiction, and I'm hoping the rest of my June does not get fucked up. I'm taking deep breaths and drinking lots of fluids. My roommate is making me oregano water to try.
How are you preparing for summer, which comes for us all in its wicked ways? How are you faring? I'll send you my mailing address if you'd like to reply via snail mail; just reach out. Sending love from a safe distance.
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