Let me describe a few things I can see as I sit here at the kitchen table.
The bin is full. Scrunched up bits of plastic and packaging make a fringe as they poke over the edge. There is a large swathe of butter across the countertop from breakfast that needs wiping up. A sad clutch of hot cross buns needs moving back to where they should sit near the toaster. I make a mental note that they should be eaten today before they go stale. A board game (Dominion) we played yesterday afternoon still needs putting away, too.
My nose detects that something is amiss, but the smell isn’t coming from the bin. Thoughts move to the laundry. The cat – ah. That’s right. Litter needs changing. A load of washing needs to get out on the line, the most promising day for days as far as sunshine goes.
There’s more: what will I cook for dinner? When will I get to the library to return the overdue book? Get down to the post office box to check it? We’ve already misplaced an item of school clothing – where is it?
These thoughts and observations, and the thousands of others we all have every day, hardly warrant any comment. Not even on social media, let alone on a blog post. In 2016, at least. 2006? Sure. Anything went in those days. It was quaint. But now if you want to be an authority you need to write authoritatively. That’s the implication. Hell, in some pockets of the internet that’s demanded.
Not in this neighbourhood.
February has been a tricky month for me ever since dad died. I think we all have these periods where memories and residual grief poke up to the surface no matter how hard we try to ignore them. So here we are.
I haven’t written a post of this nature in quite some time. Can you tell? If you think it reads as self-conscious now, you should’ve seen the last draft. Oh, boy. Mewling voice, ahoy. Part of me doesn’t even want to press publish – but I will. And here’s why.
I’m doing okay.
As I’ve gone a little quieter, people have asked after me. Thank you. I appreciate it. I do the same thing – if I notice someone’s gone dark online, I’ll check in too. I find it heartening that friendship still matters in this reactive (and often ugly) digital space.
So I’m here. I’m glad you are too. If you’re feeling similarly circumspect, I understand. Don’t beat yourself up about it either. Take a moment to recharge just like I have. Now I feel ready to tackle those jobs.
