It is Thursday. I know that because the garbage truck just came by. Yesterday was Wednesday. I knew that because I had lunch with my ex-secretary. Tomorrow is Friday. I know that because the maids come and I have an appointment with my beautician. Those are the ways I know the days of the week now. Garbage trucks and hair appointments. Today the a.c. people come to service the unit. I like saying that--service the unit. I will take all the proper precautions.
Lunch yesterday took all afternoon. Including driving time, it was a three hour deal. I got the scoop on what is happening at the factory. Someday it will all fade from me and make no sense, but still it does. Ili, too. I have not seen her since Christmas, and only now am I beginning to not think about her all the time. I think finding the letters in the attic helped. Helped? I have become a nut, sure, but days go by now where I don't think about Ili, and when I do, the thoughts aren't the sweet, longing sort I've had before. I am beginning to remember the awful things that I have put away. There were terrible things that I still don't want to remember.
Night is coming soon. If Trump were smart, he would revoke the changing of the clocks right now. It is crazy to do this in the Time of Covid. Studies show that trying to adapt to the hour's change stresses the body as well as the psyche. Do we really need to be more prone to infections? If you are not going to wear the mask, buddy, at least stop the hideous shift in time. Polls show that overwhelmingly people oppose it.
If he doesn't put an end to it, I will suffer a very dark winter.
And I will not be sitting inside for the holidays with my own true love. Rather, I will spend dark and lonely hours in lockdown as the virus rages through the nation. There will be no romantic dinners together, no holding hands and watching movies on t.v. There will just be the darkness and the silence and the sound of my own lonely heart.
I've had enough trauma these past years. I am not up for taking more.