Day 1 of Quarantine

Started the day at 5:30 a.m. with French Press coffee. Brought my own coffee grounds and French Press because I can’t leave to get coffee at 7-11 or Family Mart. I know my own dependency so came prepared. Haven’t made French Press coffee since Ana showed me in 2009, when I visited her in Greensboro. It really is a bit smoother, but also lighter.

Paperwork and so much bureaucracy before I can see my dad. Nothing to do about it. So I billed almost 8 hours and did squats and pushups and yoga (too impatient to finish the whole video), played guitar (wasn’t feeling it, after 2 songs).

I always love looking at old picture albums.

Read so much on the airplane, my eyes almost fell out. Therese Raquin in its entirety, finished most of Mating in Captivity, and got through the first half of Interpreter of Maladies. Will pick up one of Dad’s John Updike novels tonight.

 

 

Daydream

i daydream about waking up in his apartment between cocoon sheets and quietly folded dreams of the faded night before

and padding down the hallway on his pine wood floors in the morning as a crisp reminder of reality

but he never calls me so

let us stare mindlessly at the yellow roses by the mailbox together until this song runs out

we’ll pick up guitars and play until i am ready for coffee highs and long days

we’ll make our own viscous, blurring nights with liquid destruction in our hands

you can have all my secret fascinations and my immutable kingdom

as long as we can spend all summer on the cafe patio

with old men

cigarettes

and iced tea