I’ve heard from friends who are having trouble sleeping, and now I’m one of them. I’m uncertain why. The possibilities are numerous, and of course they include the difficulties of the world—these are extraordinary and trying times. But they also include working too hard and eating ice cream too close to bedtime. And I have occasional bouts of insomnia in normal times as well, so who’s to know?
Whatever the case, I got about two hours of sleep last night. On the bright side, I don’t need to drive to work.
Insert smiley-face emoji here.
I’m too tired to find and add the emoji, but coffee is brewing and Rolo has awakened with me, so it’s not all bleakness.
Glory days
One of the many social engagement games floating around the Internet is the question, “When this is all over, what will you never take for granted again?” My honest answer, I think, is hygiene; my approach to cleanliness has always been…lax, but I suspect those days are gone. I’m not saying my house will be spotless, but the nearly hourly ritual of washing my hands might already have changed me forever.
My first serious thought, though, when I heard this question a few days ago, was “Baseball.” Yesterday would have been opening day. In years past, I would have been at Comiskey Park, rain or shine, cold or warm (and believe me, cold and rainy was not uncommon). In recent years I’ve gotten either wiser or less intrepid and begun watching the season’s first game with friends in a pub. Wherever I am, it’s an annual ritual.
This year, of course, is different. There’s no joy in Mudville because Mighty Casey can’t pick up a bat. Earlier this week, the husband and I pulled out our 15-year-old DVD set of the White Sox’s 2005 postseason and began watching. It’s a very different experience when you already know the outcome, but we’re having fun. All of the players are long-gone now, and we’re reliving happy times with them. I’ve never watched sports reruns on television, and I don’t think I’m going to start, but a once-in-a-lifetime World Series championship? I’m in.
I read a lovely poem about opening day yesterday that someone shared in a closed Facebook group. I can’t link to it it here—closed group and all—but it reminded me that I wasn’t the only person missing this annual celebration. That was helpful. Still, poetry can’t replace baseball. I’m looking forward to sitting again in the open air for three straight hours, with nothing to do other than watch people chase after a little white ball.
Goal setting
I’m too tired to care much about goals, but I do believe they’re helping me keep from stagnating in this extended period of isolation, so here’s my reckoning from yesterday: I’m giving myself a score of 4 out of 6. I didn’t manage to write to a friend, and while I spent extended time with my husband, and even with friends via FaceTime, I think I was wound so tightly from work that the term “quality” just can’t apply. So my goals are very modest today—or, rather, highly prioritized:
- Sleep when I need to
- Engage socially with one friend
- Walk the dogs if weather allows (rain in the forecast)
- Read a poem
- Photo a day
Photo of the day
Once again, I took several photos yesterday. I’m too tired to choose the winner, so you do it: Rolo sheltering in place, or a shy friend I saw on my walk:
