Tuesday was just what I needed. I was able go get a sub I know and like, so I wasn’t worried about things at school. I got a lot done–not everything on my to-do list–but enough to feel productive. I also got a little break from the regular stresses at work, even though I was at home… doing work.
I spent the morning at a cafe grading papers and writing a test. When my husband texted that he and our son had left, I went home. I watched a shitty movie and graded packets. I finished making the test. I worked out. I planned the next three weeks for all my classes. I gchatted with my husband. I talked with a friend on the phone.
It was a good day.
But really, what is the point of writing that post?
. . .
I come here and there are all kinds of things I could write about. But with the political turmoil swirling all around us, it feels trite. And yet… we have to live our lives. I am conflicted.
I don’t really know what else to say. Things are bad. Really bad. Catastrophically bad. How does one absorb that and then simply continue living her life? How does one strike a balance?
Right now I am burrowing deeply into the minutiae. I plan for possible futures. I think about the summer, I think about next year. I think about next week. But only in the context of my life. Like maybe if I can shape our existence, everything will be okay.
Of course it won’t be. And I am deeply privileged that I can even imagine possible futures without worrying my or my family’s imminent safety.
It’s only been two weeks. A fortnight. How are you we supposed to survive this? How are we supposed to keep fighting?
I don’t have the answers.
And so I will schedule this post, and go back to making a study guide for my 7th and 8th graders. Then I will pack my daughter’s lunches, and lay out my clothes, and brush my teeth and go to bed.
And tomorrow I’ll wake up and live another day.
This is our life now. I suppose, sooner or later, we’ll get used to it.
And that’s the most terrifying part.