a peek inside the fishbowl

Hey you! Hi! How’s it going? It’s been awhile since I’ve updated here but I am keen to get back into the swing of things. Care to say hello? I’m afraid my comments don’t exactly work (and I don’t know how to fix them!) but if you feel like it and have a moment to spare, drop me a line to let me know you’re still here. I’ve missed this; I’ve missed YOU, dear Fishies. I have a lot to share with you in the coming days.

On one hand, I can’t believe it’s already January 16. On the other hand, I am STILL writing 2021 when I have to jot down the date somewhere.

I looked at the last time I posted here and it was NOVEMBER. How is that even possible? Perhaps it’s because I haven’t felt like I have very much to share lately.

The holidays seem like a distant memory although I will say that was a very welcome break and it was so lovely to see my little fam.

Time is somehow folding in upon itself. How does that happen? I feel very much like I’m in a holding pattern, even though I am keenly aware that Things Are Actually Happening Around Me.

We’re approaching the second anniversary of the pandemic. I catch myself wondering how it’s possible we’ve been living with this for two years. TWO. YEARS! And although I’m loath to talk much about Covid and the health of my family in a public space, I will say that we have been personally affected. I had hoped we could remain untouched by Covid, but sadly, that was not to be. We are all ok now. I mention this only in case there is someone reading who thinks this virus is something other people catch. We all mask, we are all vaccinated, we are all cautious, but we still got it.

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Stress is a funny thing. Sometimes I feel like I’m a glass of water that is absolutely full to the brim. The surface tension is such that if you look closely, the surface of the water is actually above the rim of the glass. It’s all right now – doing fine, holding tight – but the tiniest of drops will be enough to displace the unbroken and calm layer of water in the glass and cause it to overflow.
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It seems to me that my news is old news. I am unenthused about most of it. There’s a major deep freeze happening across the region and we are pretty much shut-ins right now. Yesterday I vacuumed, rearranged some houseplants, gave a few things away on my local Buy Nothing Facebook group (EXTREMELY CATHARTIC. HIGHLY RECOMMEND), dropped off some groceries for someone who is in quarantine, read my book, and watched avian-related antics in the backyard. I will say once again for the record that expanding our bird feeder set up was one of the best pandemic purchases we made. (Thank you M, for your kind email about that!) We also installed a plug-in water warmer for our ground-level bird bath. Mark just shouted from the living room that a crow was availing himself of a long drink. I wonder if it’s the same one who dropped by yesterday, the fellow with the shiny feathers.

You can read this post or click here to listen to it on SoundCloud.

I was at the grocery store. I was feeling on edge, in a mood at it were. I had a list of to-dos and frankly I really didn’t want to be there on a Saturday morning. I was in the produce department, debating the merits of buying myself a seven-dollar bag of mini-peppers when I saw a young mother, not wearing a mask. It’s interesting, isn’t it, how much people who aren’t wearing masks stand out. They might as well have a beacon shining out of their foreheads or something.

We live in a time when it’s actually weird to see someone’s entire face.

A wave of annoyance and anger welled up inside of me. And I had questions, lots of questions: Why wasn’t she wearing a mask? Why is she exempt? What is it with people!??

This woman’s son was about five years old. He was cute, doing what kids do, alternately hanging on the cart or running up the aisle. Interestingly, he was wearing a mask.

She and I found ourselves in the same aisle in produce. I debated whether I should say anything. Should I say anything? Or leave it? Ultimately, I could not help myself. I felt the words bursting out of my mouth before I knew it: “You forgot your mask.”

The way I see it, I was stating a fact. I may have sounded judgemental or accusatory, and if so, I didn’t mean to. When I really think back to that moment I felt annoyed and angry, as I mentioned, but also strangely hurt by all of this. I don’t like wearing a mask either, but I do. When I’m wearing it I feel gross and sweaty and I can’t wait to rip it off my face the first chance I get. But I continue to wear it because it’s the right thing to do. I’m doing my part, so why aren’t you, lady?

You forgot your mask.

I actually walked by her as I said it, perhaps subconsciously protecting myself from a potential screaming match with an anti-masker. I don’t know, it’s the coward’s way. As I glided by with my cart, I saw her dive into her purse.

“Oh my goodness, you’re right,” she said. She pulled on the mask. “Thanks for letting me know.”

“No problem. It happened to me last week,” I said. And honestly, it did. I popped into a mall over my lunch break and was so spaced out I didn’t even realize I forgot to put it on until I was a dozen or so steps past the doors.

I overheard the young mother whispering to her son. They were standing next to those seven-dollar peppers I was looking at earlier. “Why didn’t you tell me I wasn’t wearing my mask?” she asked him, but I didn’t hear his reply.