Syllabus #45

There is a cruel irony plaguing teachers in the midst of our extended corona-cation.  No, it has nothing to do with the scramble to conduct online learning.  I don't know about the rest of you educators, but whenever I'm not working, I luxuriate in the ability to go to the bathroom whenever the urge strikes, and sometimes when it doesn't, just because I can.  But now, I've been robbed of that carefree pee experience.  I can't appreciate that simple pleasure because every time I go, I'm one square closer to running out of toilet paper.

And, not that there are winners or losers here, but I think teachers are going to come out and take a bow when this is all over.  Everyone trying to homeschool their kids will be like, okayokay we get it, teachers have a really hard job and should be paid way more.  And teachers are like, yea, dudes, we know, andplusalso our immune systems have been roundhouse-kicking your kids' germs in the face for years.  We've trained for this.

look to the skies

So uh, some of us have had a lot of free time lately.  What have you been pretending to skim in between alternating bouts of screaming into a pillow and stress-eating?

Millennials, this is the moment we become adults.  When you have to get on the phone and scream at your parents to stop doing some (heretofore innocuous) activity, in the same way they would have screamed at you after learning you and a few friends once walked barefoot down the Ben Franklin Parkway at midnight to hang out on the Art Museum steps, you are now an adult.  (Hi Mom, that was like 17 years ago and I know better now.  I would totally wear shoes.)

This guy


She would like to speak to the manager.


"What solace do you think Butt Boy can offer people in these troubled times?"

I'm going to assume all of us need this advice right now.  I went to therapy on Monday, the 16th, against my better judgment.  The tornado caused me to reschedule a long-standing appointment and I didn't want to cancel again.  I wish I hadn't wasted that hour of my possibly very short life.  The uncertainty of the future was a convenient way to not schedule another appointment with a therapist I've realized is wildly unhelpful.  For someone whose whole job is listening to people, she did an awful lot of staring at her phone and paying zero attention while I was talking.  Two minutes after I tried to convey that I AM FREAKING THE FUCK OUT about coronavirus because of my parents and very elderly, 2-pack- a-day-smoking grandmother, she asks me if my grandmother is still living.   Then I tell her about my survivor's guilt following the tornado and my concern for all the local businesses and their employees in my neighborhood, and larger fear of the societal ramifications of this virus with so many workers unable to earn income, and she asks how I can enjoy my time off and treat it like a vacation.  DID YOU LISTEN TO A GODDAMN WORD I JUST SAID?  STOP PLAYING CANDY CRUSH ON YOUR PHONE DURING MY THERAPY SESSION, SUSAN!

Can you even imagine??  That is the opening sequence of a dystopian novel.  That is some Austin Powers being reanimated and finding out Liberace was gay type of stuff.

I would put this book on hold at my local library, but, you know, it's closed, so that's just one more thing that has disappeared from my life.

Ugh.  All she had to say was "people are more defensive about their hangovers" and I had some very unpleasant flashbacks to a morning-after-a-wedding flight.  That's not remotely the point of the article but all I could think about while reading it was how I threw up in the airport bathroom, somehow miraculously passed out for the duration of the PHL-GSP flight, and believed I had rallied until I made it to the Trader Joe's parking lot on the way home and had to slam the car into park, fling open the door, and puke.  Then I thought I was really fine, until I was paying for my groceries and had to run out the door with my cart, duck down beside my car, and puke.  My life choices are unassailable.  I am a woman of class and dignity.

Analog Reading:

A bunch!

I finally had time to read last month's Oprah magazine, and started in on the current issue, which just solidifies my belief that Oprah is a visionary:

'MO money, 'MO problems.

Finished On Writing by Stephen King.  It felt like solid advice.

Read A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius by Dave Eggers.  It took me a while to get through this, because it was heartbreaking.  Though it was written with a level of detachment and wit that made it easier to digest, it was still maybe not the best time to read a book involving both of someone's parents dying within weeks of one another.  I appreciated the liberties he took with stream of consciousness, dialogue, timelines, and composite characters in what was still largely a work of nonfiction.

Devoured Weather by Jenny Offill.  If there was ever a perfect book for me, presented to me at the perfect time, this book is it.  I've had this book on hold for weeks, and it finally came in on the very last day the library was open before everything shut down.  The main character is a librarian obsessed with the collapse of society, and the rest of it is also perfect.

Starting The Great Alone by Kristin Hannah.  Seems like another right time, right place kinda book.  Thank gawd for the library's OverDrive ebooks, because I might actually blow through my massive stack of print books before this is all over.