Week 3 (or is it 8) of social distancing…week 2 of working from home… What day is it? Have I washed my hair this week? I’m almost out of toothpaste. When was my last real meal? It feels like it’s been a year. I wonder if I’ll remember how to drive? The dog loves me more than ever and the cats wish I would leave. What started as a loose string on my hoodie sleeve is now a full on hole. What is normal anymore?? Where are the people I love? Does anyone miss me? I’m blissfully pathetically sarcastically obnoxiously alone….but it’s okay. I’m built for this solitude….I think.
Janet Jackson, Halsey, and Puddle of Mudd have all sang songs about Control. Sometimes it’s about owning it. Some times it’s about relinquishing it. Sometimes it’s about whether or not you actually have any of it.
I have said, from day one, that I’m going to be totally fine in all this. I have adequate food and had just purchased a whole pack of toilet paper as the social paranoia for paper goods set in. I suppose you need 96 rolls of toilet paper when the shit actually hits the fan. I’m generally low social interaction and can talk myself out of going to most any get together. My friends know it’s unlikely they’ll see me, but they invite me anyway – and for that I love them. Myers-Briggs says I’m INTJ. Capable. Independent. Structured…Truth be told, I’ve spent the better part of the last 20 years alone in one way or another so add to that..Adapted. Or so I thought.
A friend of mine recently posted on social media:
Last year I had to jump start my old riding mower the last 2-3 times I used it. I knew I was going to have to replace the battery, and when I went out to take the battery off I found there was also a flat tire. I made a very quick (socially distanced and hand sanitized) trip to town, had the tire repaired and got a battery. I got home, put the wheel back on, hooked up the battery – hopped on – turned the key……..nothing. Not a click or anything. I could have cried. Listened to the mansplaining of a few well-meaning friends. Yes. There is gas in it. Yes. It is in park. No. The blade is not engaged. Yes. The choke is on. I fiddled and poked and checked connections. I tested the new battery on my solar pump. It worked. I gave up. I’d push mow. I’ll show the universe who is in charge. This mess is getting mowed TODAY!! I fired up the old Husqvarna push mower and indignantly started mowing the trim around the house. I got to a narrow spot the riding mower can’t get into and, as if to rub my nose in my indignance, there was a dull thud and the mower came to an immediate halt. The blade drive belt had snapped….and eff my luck!! Head hanging in defeat, I pushed the mower back to it’s home and sat on my back steps to have a one woman pity party.
Finally my one of my neighbors saw me despondent over TWO mowers and came over. He checked all the same things I had, tested the battery power and the switch, the starter, and stood there baffled too. “It’s gotta be the solenoid…unless the fuse is blown.”….viola – about 5 minutes later. New fuse. Engine roars to life and I whoop loud enough to be heard over it!! JOY!! It felt amazing to have control of that machine again.
I took off around the yard, basking in the sun on my shoulders and the breeze in my hair. I was going to tame the jungle of my yard. The grass was up to my knees in places, and although I’m not very tall, I was relieved that I wasn’t going to have to push mow after all. I glance off to the right to watch the river of grass clippings come out of the …..what?? I was riding along, blades engaged, and not a bit of grass being cut. My stomach lurched. Had my pride gotten the best of me already?? I parked, set the brake, disengaged the blade, checked the belt….everything was fine except it just wasn’t engaging. The lever that pulls the pulleys to tighten the belt was locked. Deep breath. WD-40 carefully applied….peace in my heart and a will for this to work….and it did. An hour and a half later it’s not a pretty mow – as first mows often aren’t – but it was done. I had found control of something.
I shook off the grass, and as I looked over the rolling contours of my *almost* acre it occurred to me that it wasn’t really the frustration of the thing – it was that for some time now Covid-19 has made us all felt vastly out of control of our lives. Some people act out in defiance, ignoring the distancing and restrictions, shopping, using playgrounds and public spaces. “I’m not afraid! I’ll show them. I do what I want!!” Some of us turn inwards naturally, focusing on control of our environments more than ourselves. In that moment of the failed key turn I lost control of the thing that was to be my visual reminder that I had a grip on something – that SOMETHING in my life was normal and beautiful and mine to see done. So when it was done I made it a point to step out of ‘control’ and into ‘gratitude’. I realize that although I am capable of solitude and quiet, of not being around people for long periods of time, of being a very successful hermit – I’m one hell of a control freak when it comes to myself and my space. That’s not a bad thing…but it’s a thing that, for the next several weeks, is something I should keep in mind so that my neighbors don’t find me in the back yard crying over snails in the fish tank or a hole in my favorite hoodie.
I hope you are all well in these trying times. Find your small joys. Pour yourself a basic adult beverage and call it a Quarantini just for fun. Don’t forget to breathe. Smile every chance you get. After all – we’re all in this togethere. Feel free to leave comments on where your control feels frayed. These are times to be a community, even if it’s just to share our awkward moments.
The Artificial Extrovert 