Coronavirus Days--Week 42
2021. No dramatic changes. The neighborhood looks the same, my routine remains the same, and the news continues to broadcast crazy ass stuff from the reality tv guy who seems determined to make these remaining weeks filled with anxiety. But the same is not all terrible, because for me, that means my food obsession stays on repeat.
Nan and I aren't New Year's Eve type of gals. The forced party, the loud celebrations, the attempts at group closing out the past and ringing in some future has never been appealing. Sure, when I was 19 and playing in a band, landing a New Year's Eve gig on a long roster at CBGBs felt like a huge win, an arrival. But for most of my life, passing this particular evening on a plane back from vacation or being far from home doing nothing in particular is perfection.
If you had asked me months ago if I would ever eat together with someone over a computer screen, I'd have said HELL NO. Too strange a thought. Too different. I imagined it would heighten the separation, making me miss that sense of being together at a table. But last Thursday, we did just that, the four of us who have shared many meals together over the years of our friendship, staring into the computer screen, taking bites and talking. It didn't feel strange. It didn't feel like a weird substitute. Connection.