running out the sand in 1% better

  • Feb. 10, 2021, 9:35 a.m.
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  • Public

Day 19. Time marches on. When I started my countdown to March 1st I didn’t envision how I’d feel, who I’d be when the day finally arrived. It was arbitrary, like most goals, something to strive for, to aim at, like an apple on a head, or a stamp on a lower back.

But now I see we are in the teens. The day is almost here. I reckon it’s time for a reckoning. I went to sleep 12 months ago and now I’m groggy and bumbling around, like an old bear with 350 emails in my inbox.

The days are noticeably brighter. The sun streams in the windows in the morning, up in my office, in the loft of the house. And the days are longer. The sky is still bright at 5:30, going on six o’clock. Hope is in the air. Hope and wishful thinking, tough concepts for a pessimist like me.

I feel like it is almost time to come out of my hibernation. Yesterday I went out for the first time in weeks. I had an appointment that was a six minute walk away and then I went to the library, the post office, the weed shop and the liquor store… the places in my neighbourhood.
I saw a couple of neighbours but didn’t stop to talk.

I call my mom and asked if she got her shot yet.
“This month”, she said.
“Any plans to visit me this year?”
“Hard to say,” she says. “I don’t know if I want to get on a plane.”
It is hard to plan with so much uncertainty, so much much water uncharted, trails yet to blaze - a foggy lake, a virgin forest.
“We’ll play it by ear, take it one more day at a time for the time being.”
Ok then. I resolve to remain resilient.


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