Inner Doodles

(A by-the-way-this-also-happened-in-Week-9-but-was-unrelated-to-Gradschool-Black-Hole side note) Our feline companion's ear has gotten worse. We had to find a facility that would take him and allow us to remain in the car. The drive-through veterinarian was not an experience I ever thought I'd have in this life time. Chief Mate and I took the expedition together. He had not left the neighborhood in ... (blank thought bubble) ... let's just say, quite some time. I was beginning to think he may not remember what it feels like to sit in a car. Getting Oliver in the carrier was not easy. After three failed attempts to shove the beast through the tiny door (how did Oliver get so big??) and Chief Mate laughing hysterically, I tried putting treats in the back of the crate. But it was too little too late and Oliver was far from dumb. He made sure to give me a side-eye and silent meow in protest of my feeble effort. We had to take the crate apart and rebuild it around him. ...

I'm starting to get used to the oscillating weather. And I do love the way the rain shimmers on the kelly-green leaves. Rain or shine, I make my way outside now. If the animals can do it in their fur, I can grab an umbrella. I met a man on my walk. We had a conversation. A real live conversation. His image didn't glitch out. His voice didn't warble or chop itself into bits. We spoke and the sound waves traveled directly through the air from one person to the other. From six feet away. When it ended he gave me the most quizzical look and we each went on our way. Human contact. Interaction with people is rare these days. I'm afraid to have a conversation in the grocery store. Go in, collect needed items, go out. Don't dawdle. Don't breath on anyone. Only get what's on the list. Except for those windmill cookies. And the key lime pie. I don't feel human in the store. Everyone is plastic wrapped in their own little bubble and there is no human contact. Eve...

My back aches from the old metal swivel stool I am chained to. Finally got new orders from base. I am now required to spend 8 hours in front of the communication box. Several hours pass while studying glitchy training videos where my questions disappear into a void. Another hour or two is spent writing papers that analyze the process and purpose of thinking. My main points circle round and round themselves until I stand up to stretch. Oof. My back won't let me stand up straight. I much preferred the early exploration missions where I got to walk and sit and think my own meandering thoughts. Now my thoughts are being forced back into a standard formula. APA, to be precise. I ordered a new stool. It has a cushion and the seat rotates with your bum as you lean in any which way. It is a sit-stand style stool. Say that five times fast. We are spoiled, really. Ordering whatever we would like with the touch of a button. Who from the early 1900s would ever imagine such a thing? My grandm...

I didn’t leave the house today. Not once. I read an article a while back that said we as a human race were grieving. Grieving for the world and the loss of human lives. Grieving for the loss of our so-called freedoms. (I am paraphrasing and perhaps sprinkling in my own opinion. I don’t remember the exact words.) The grief is sitting with me again. It’s not negative. Not positive. Just heavy. My school assignments are getting increasingly more difficult to complete. But I force myself to sit at the desk until they are done. It felt good when I finally got biggest one out of the way. Tried not to think about the many other smaller tasks that are due by Monday. Then found my brain counting them anyway. Letting anxiety show it’s ugly face. How dare it? I decided to play with Chief Mate in his Duplo garden. But my ideas are not always welcome. I was handed a guy. I wanted my character to be peacemaker, but “He can’t do that! That’s not his way!” How dare he? I put my guy in timeout an...

A fresh gale tore through the front yard today upheaving our canvases. I knew it was windy before we set out, but I put “painting outside” on the schedule and, by God, we were going to paint! “I don’t want to paint in the wind,” whined the voice of a boy who’s been allowed one too many television shows this week. “It will be fine,” I ran inside to grab reinforcements. Not sure who I was really trying to convince. Frog tape did the trick. With canvases anchored to plywood boards and palette paper taped to the sidewalk (I was sure HOA wouldn’t mind) we set to work. I invited our next-door inhabitant to paint with us. She stayed on her patio, us on ours. Nothing like painting with friends 20 feet apart in strong wind. “I made the feet too fat,” cried the novice painter. “Oh! But you can just repaint them. Paint is so forgiving. You just wait for it to dry and then layer and...” But Chief Mate was done painting. He was already whacking trees with his favorite stick. A regular pastim...

Co-Captain and Chief Mate worked on making a sling shot today. He has been instructed not to hit or harm any wildlife. The Inner Child in me loves the sentiment. However, the Inner Beast fully believes we will resort to eating squirrel by June. So ... target practice will calm my instinctual nerves. On a lighter note, I finally got my “snow” (see attached video). Sometimes things don’t turn out the way you want or could possibly imagine. And we must adapt anyway. Keep calm and face mask on. END TRANSMISSION

Walking outside is tremendous. Seeing the sun and spring budding everywhere keeps a smile on my face. Spending time with my guys is a blessing. I miss everyone else, though. The weight is heavy and tremendously sad. I get to stop and smell the flowers, but conversations are limited to TMNT megablock storylines and what groceries are still missing from the stores (thank you hoarders). Take a minute today to do something you like. Don’t forget that the little things in life can make the biggest difference. END TRANSMISSION

Please tell me we are not the only household losing our damn minds? Humor me, post something ridiculous that YOU have done. Pics, Poem, Flash Fiction Story, Interpretive Dance, and.... GO! END TRANSMISSION

Solitary Pajamas Apple muffins Cat fur Endless Music Agitation Donutless Numb Erik Estrada are ALL my friends School? Sucks END TRANSMISSION

The tree tops were lit Casting apocalyptic Glow of setting sun. Post your own haiku Include a picture or two END (of) TRANSMISSION

My focus has dusted the bathroom and cat is snoring in a pile of fur. I started a load of laundry and forgot the soap. I watched my neighbors move and my hair is dry and way too long. I wonder if the faucet is unclogged or if the package arrived yet. How many days has it been since the Dragon Prince started? Chapter 7 of my math book keeps going and I don’t remember where I put the mail key. I AM BORED END TRANSMISSION

The days are blending into one. It’s all one giant Groundhog Day, but less funny and with significantly less snow. Inner Beasts are itching to escape from every corner of our beings. I entertain Chief Mate and myself with acoustic jingles and spontaneous dance rap songs. Our own life soundtrack, if you will. I will spare you the recordings, although they do exist. Not sure what they will say about us when some future generation finds them. School has yet to formulate, but I have faith it will soon take shape. Many masterminds are working around the clock to make it happen. Math must go on. Reading must recommence. Science must continue to cause speculation. Art ... well you get the idea. Carry on, human race. END TRANSMISSION

The sun has been out for two days in a row. Virtual School begins today. Parents who are working from home, hang in there. This is uncharted territory for us all. Despite anxiety, grief, and other such discomforts, spring is still waking up. It is a new world. Let’s make it a good one. END TRANSMISSION

The creatures on this planet prove to be strange, but non-threatening. Exhibit A releases a terrible stench when agitated, but I believe it to be non-toxic. The creature in Exhibit B does not move even when the shiny orbed aliens come in for an attack. Chief Mate fended them off crying, “Save the frog! Kill the bubbles!” Life remains exciting despite confinement. END TRANSMISSION

As it turns out, my perpetual state of doing too many things can be beneficial. Last night the director of Spoon River Anthology, which I am acting in, went out with a few of the cast members for food and drink. We ended up talking about our various paths and how we got to where we are. Being a bunch of artistic types, there were many struggling sob stories, but the exciting thing was that we had all come together in that one moment and shared something that was important to each of us. The vast amount of inspiration and happiness that is in the world often gets overlooked and when you have the opportunity to realize just how amazing life can be, it's almost always worth the pain and angst it took to get there. In talking with these awesome people, that realization stilled the spinning of my hectic little world, if even for the one moment, and made me really stop and absorb the goodness that's around me. Perhaps we'll never cross paths again when the play is over, but ...