Broken Brain Furnished in Early January
Turns out that when you're already predisposed to January depression, a new Covid wave and your kids going back to school five hours away at the same time really enhances the experience. Of course, everyone whose kids aren't leaving home and are stuck doing online learning, or going into Covid-ridden schools or whatever is also not having the best of times, in addition to literally everyone else except the deluxe fuckwagon anti-vaxxers and the like. I also have my customary month-long January headache (why? why now? WHO CAN FUCKING SAY?)
Eve is actually at home an extra week doing online university, but I don't have to help with that and Matt is traveling this week (why? why now? who can fucking say? He's arranged it so he's only flying on planes where everyone has to be vaccinated, apparently it's necessary but definitely not ideal) so the company will be nice.
Writing my last blog post, I was suddenly struck anew by the extreme weirdness of blogging. There is diversity, of course, but basically, we write about out lives online and somehow people we don't otherwise know end up reading it. It is splendid, but it is weird.
I'm thinking about death a lot right now, which I don't think is all depression-related. The holidays is chiefly about family for us, which of course draws the mind to the family members we've lost, and the new year is a sort of transition point, which always makes me think about dying too. Then there's my Christmas Day nap. The first Christmas Day nap was last year. We opened presents, went to my parents' place for breakfast, came home and I went upstairs and showered and put on clean pajamas. I didn't have great hopes for the nap - I haven't been sleeping well for a couple of years, and usually if I do nap I'm so overtired that the twitchy legs thing goes into overdrive.
But it was perfect. It was superlative. It was the best nap I've ever had. I was asleep enough that it felt restful, but still aware that I was having a great sleep. All the dreams were lovely. The temperature was ideal. The sheets were so soft and cozy. Every position I rolled into was perfectly comfortable.
When I got up, the house smelled like turkey, and I spent a lovely evening with my family. I kept thinking that it would be nice if that was what death was like. Peaceful, serene, no sense of urgency, but a faint sense that when we wake, wonderful things await.
A few nights ago, I was reading a David Sedaris book in bed, and Eve came in with me to read Brave New World. She had thought initially that it might be a fun read - she enjoys science fiction and the synopsis sounded interesting. I had a faint memory of reading it at about her age and did not have great hopes for her reading experience (although I did really like Eyeless in Gaza), but I didn't say anything. Unfortunately, I was right.
Don't be fooled by the smile, she hadn't started reading yet |
The David Sedaris book started with a few fictional pieces, and I liked the first one but after that I was feeling dismayed at how unkind and unfunny the next ones seemed. Fortunately, the book got back to essays about his family, which are what I hugely enjoy. I was erupting in explosive laughter at frequent intervals, and then apologizing to Eve, who finally said miserably "I'm reading the summary. Of what I already read, because I don't know what the hell is going on". I said all I remembered was genetic modification and women being called "pneumatic" a lot, as if resembling a tire was a huge compliment, and she said "yes - plus it's apparently cool for kids to have sex". I just looked at Goodreads and I gave it four stars, so I guess I'll have to read it again to remember why.
Yesterday Eve and I went to Staples to get her a couple of new notebooks for subjects that are new this term, then went to Indigo basically to look around and for Eve to be funny. She picked up one book and said "ooh, the cover is so pretty", then opened it and said "ooh, but it's Instagram poetry". She waved at the biography section and said "I don't want to read about your life, buddy", but then we had to buy a book from there for her Indigenous studies course. We did manage not to buy any more blankets, even though they were on sale so it was a near thing.
This week I can only work my library shift - my office shifts are cancelled because school is online -- so I'm going to get the book review posts organized and keep Eve well fed while she does coursework. And take a fuckton of Advil, probably. Wishing everybody a great week.
Comments
Covid is all over my house and I am trying to keep my distance from it, while still doing the things I do. Yesterday was a low - celebrating Reg's 16th birthday while he was sick with covid and alone in the basement. Ugh.
I've also been thinking about my demise lately; why are we going there? I think maybe I'm just a planner and I don't want to leave any loose ends for my people. Just call me the organizer of my own death.
Eve is such a lovely human and so witty too. I wonder where she gets all those trait? *pointing at her Mama!*