Hello Fresh put two cans of Heineken non-alcoholic beer in our latest meal kit box, and damn if doesn’t taste like the real thing. I like it. Of course, I haven’t had beer in forever. Now I’d like a little sunshine and balcony time please.
I skipped my fitness class, I’ve postponed going to the grocery store until later this weekend. Spending the day responding to correspondence and cocooning with Charles.
Sonny Rollins’ Saxophone Colossus is accompanying us on sax and drums.
We’re at home with the luxury of a four-day weekend ahead of us. Ok 3.5 since Friday morning is near gone already. The fake beer is giving me a buzz and I like it.
I’m taking the weekend off from the pandemic. I’m going to forget it exists for a while. I’m not going to break any rules, I’m just going to enjoy the moments I have with my husband and allow myself to feel joy.
I am so sick of feeling like we aren’t supposed to be happy. A friend on FaceBook recently posted that her mental health is the best it’s been in some time, but that she felt guilty about feeling that way or perhaps about expressing it, given the times we’re in. I know what she means.
Look, we all know this pandemic is a terrible thing and it’s going on and on and on. I’m not going to list all the reasons why it’s terrible. I acknowledge the awfulness of living under Covid-19, but I also think it has to be ok to appreciate whatever good comes our way at this time. Today I am grateful for this long weekend with my darling husband, for the delectable breakfasts he makes us, for the music in the background, for the bubbles in this fake beer, for the fact that I wrote “fake bear” at first, which made me smile.
I doubt you need my permission, but here it is anyway: I give you permission to feel joy. I don’t think your joy makes you a bad person; I don’t think your joy means you don’t care about the grief and suffering of others. It is simply joy. And we fucking need to feel a little joy now and again, don’t we?
and here’s a flash mob doing Ode to Joy.