Yesterday, after wandering into the kitchen for the twelfth time in three hours, I found myself in what I call a “refrigerator trance.” Maybe you’ve experienced it, too—suddenly your mind snaps out of a hazy fog and into reality, and there you are. Staring into your open refrigerator. Not looking for anything in particular, really, just…staring. So you shake your head a little, close the fridge door, and wander into a another room.
It’s similar to when your brain comes into focus and you realize you’ve been sitting on your bed for 45 minutes, wrapped in a towel post-shower, thinking about nothing. Or maybe thinking about everything? Who’s to say.
I tried really hard not to get caught up in the Great Toilet Paper Hoard of 2020, but when it became apparent that there was not, in fact, going to be any toilet paper available at all in the near future (the shelves at my Target have been completely empty for weeks), I bought a couple of large packs. Nothing crazy, just enough to realistically get me and my boyfriend through a few months.
I don’t know what the hell is going on. Every day is a new kind of nightmare, and I the fact that this is all happening three years into an ever-evolving nightmare of a presidency has made me disturbingly capable of putting myself into refrigerator trances and post-shower towel trances when my brain needs a break.
I’m worried about my family. I’m worried about money.
A couple of days ago, I started to get worried that maybe there still won’t be any readily available toilet paper in three months. So I decided to hop on the bidet bandwagon. Yes, I know that bidets and lotas are super common all over the world in many different cultures, but I’m apparently much too American to have gotten on board with what seems like a really practical, common sense thing? So I pre-ordered a Tushy, because of course all reasonably-priced bidet attachments for toilets are on back order. It’ll be here in about a month, and in case you’re wondering, I went for the Tushy Classic in white with a bamboo knob, because my boyfriend says that’s the one that’s “most in keeping with our house.” Okay.
I’m really out of shape. This is not a new thing. I was pretty physically fit until I stopped living and working in New York City, because life there often demands that you walk for miles a day and climb lots of stairs and generally have a lot of hustle on a regular basis. Life as a freelancer in New Mexico demands that you sit at a computer all day and occasionally walk to your car. This is a lie, of course, because that’s a choice. There are lots of places to go for hikes here, and nothing’s stopping me from walking the mile from my house to the middle of the city of Santa Fe (well, other than a plague-driven quarantine), but it’s easy to get away with being sedentary here. It’s not easy in NYC.
The last time I went for a good hike was in Abiquiú with Geninne in October. That’s when I took the photos in this post. New Mexico is beautiful and large. I miss being able to spend time with Geninne.
I bought 24 pounds of dried lentils and beans from an out-of-state Indian grocery because I haven’t been able to find any dried lentils or beans in stores locally, and I eat a lot of lentils and beans. I think we’re all in a tough position right now of trying to decide whether it’s better to stay home and order necessities online or go out and support local businesses.
There’s no right answer. I find myself thinking that a lot these days.