The Day

Some times in the evening I sort of forget about what's happening. Chris and Rachel are over at 7PM. I am usually in the front of the nest. I head back to my little library and read or watch (not news)TV. I'm in the world of another story. I am comfortable. Fed. Not terribly worried about money. I let the story suck me in and I sort of forget. It's the way I've spent evenings before the virus.
Even when I first wake up I'm not quite aware. I struggle to remember what day it is. I remember that I don't need to get ready to swim. I remember why. I listen to NPR while I'm eating breakfast. Do a quick check in with Facebook and Twitter. Listen to a Podcast while I do the yoga/bikewheel/shower/dress thing. Make coffee and settle in to read for awhile If I'm in a book I'm back to the shelter of the story. Yesterday I was catching up on New Yorkers. I read about a much loved door man now dead. He was coughing and a little tired when he went to the hospital, joking with everyone.
I never had a door man in NYC but there was a guy who sat in a room near the entrance of my building. You could pick up your mail there. I never got much. When I passed him in the evening I'd smile and nod. He was a surly guy. Very rarely I'd get a tiny nod.
One night I was being followed. I picked up my pace, blasted through the door and headed to the elevator. The guy following me came in behind me. My not-a-door-man came out of the little room and when I turned around in the elevator, just before the door closed, I saw him sending my stalker out the front door. He probably saved me from some kind of unpleasantness. The guys at the door are a big deal in New York.
There was a story about a doctor in an ER. It ended with him holding a cell phone so that his patient's family could say goodbye.
There was a story about a guy who is making a profit during this time of need.
It was not a restful out of touch reading time. My eyes tightened.
Around 11 or noon I turn on MSNBC and the computer. Some times I turn it all off quickly, or mute the TV. I write email and sometimes a blog post. (Hi!) I make note of the numbers, which seem to be higher and higher faster and faster. Cable news is insanely repetitive and these days it's like getting hit by a hammer over and over. My heart starts to ache. My brow knits. There are days when I just hear it and don't react. I wonder if those are days when I am deeply checked out, numb but don't quite know it.
My right knee has been hurting little more than usual. I think it's because I'm not swimming. All the active things I would do (water plants, clean, cook) aren't getting done. More reading. Some times a not-news TV show. Get a meal together. Watch Chris and Rachel. And then I'm back to my little room of books.
It's always been a thing. Balancing wanting to stay informed and needing to have some peace. It serves no one for me to be overwhelmed by the overwhelming situation in which we are all living. It is essential that know the stories of doormen and doctors and allow the tears that fall from tense eyes. I find the times when I forget what's happening troubling. I'm confused by my comfort. I'm grateful for it but it does confuse me. Red alert has been called and I'm drifting through the day with no organizing demands.