Cautiously, but with absolute certainty, I approached my desk a few minutes ago – mug of organic tea in hand. What makes this rainy, dank morning different from all others was my unwillingness to stop pouring the scalding water until it reached maximal height inside this humorous, tall mug-o-mine. This familiar Monopoly-themed ever so comfortable porcelain vessel – in which I have found such a friend these past forty days and forty nights – is filled to the upper edge – as am I. Both maximum capacity. Filled as filled can be.
Sympathetic, small vibrations rang, however slightly, when I set this mug down on the glass covering all the to-do memos I never get around finishing. You have these as well, for sure. Small to medium sized bits of paper with pen and pencil marks noting names, addresses, passwords, cell phone numbers, dates, websites, bill due dates, some pictures, goofy memes printed and saved, important kid moments, receipts, etc… all stuffed under glass. If not there … clipped, hung, taped, sorted, filed, pinned, stapled, folded, glued, boxed, drawered, or tacked above, around and about the very place you sit and sip tea just as I am doing right now. Hoping upon dear hope you don’t spill any hot, commiserating, isolating-get through beverage on what is probably 99% unimportant paperwork if you are honest yourself. But hey, this environment itself is a comfort, too. In my clutter I find peace.
Within this sort-of mess, the tea sits to my left – less full as I have sipped a few slurps off the top. The stapler I’ve named Edward, Clorox wipes and wide, red duct tape roll all breathe a deep sigh as they are beyond danger of spillage at this point. Yes, all three are currently on my desk among an old 1967 Billy O’Dell Pittsburgh Pirates card, vintage three-hole punch, and pair of drum sticks. All the usual clunky stuff you’d find on anyone’s desk in Normaltown, USA. Also erected to my immediate off-center is a stack of three clear packaging tape rolls – one on top of another. By my estimation, this engineering miracle is 6″ high with an empty plastic chocolate milk bottle (label removed) jammed down the middle – upside down, mind you. The bottle has to be upside down, like my early morning mind, because this is the only way one side of an antique, small gold plated wire plate holder would fit down inside between it and the inner roll side of the tape.
Snuggled comfortably in the two prongs is my recently sanitized Samsung phone which completes my not quite, hardly-at-all Rube Goldberg, sort of Frank Lloyd Wright homage. No moving parts except my occasional finger sputtering a stroke down to refresh the screen or one more gentle push on that annoying little tic-tak shaped button at the bottom to bring light to a dark, flat, 2-D impersonal world. It’s a solid structure I’ve built. So proud to avoid future chiropractic stressors on my upper neck not goose-necking while gaping over said phone, be stocked up on packaging needs through 2089, and have ease of access to data. Data read from a small, impersonal phone screen, through the lofty, quarantined, isolated, heavy supposed droplet masked air of uncertainty … into another larger PC screen of whiteness until I enter letter after letter of color and vibrancy.
Need to warm my tea. Be right back. This time, not so full … aaaand, I’m back – marked safe from over-filling.
To my point. I can, today, share with you #IsolationIssues. These are little tidbits of word-knowledge invented, at times, from within my thoroughly depleted, wiped clean of any conscious-currency brain. Usually those middle of the night / early morning moments sandwiched in between checking CNN, MSNBC, PRR, Fox news, MSN.com, Google, Facebook, AOL mail, Pluto TV, and my alien friends on planet SR59G67. Suffice to say, the knowledge and insight I glean from my three-headed, one-eyed, highly-intelligent super tall hot pink, interstellar confidantes far exceed any mastery of current affairs any of the previous media expert prognosticators offer at this time.
Anyway, I digress. Here are my #IsolationIssues to date as pulled, conveniently, from my cell tower of tape. I lay claim to them as original only as far as I have done no research to the contrary. Is that enough of a disclaimer? I don’t know.
“TO SUM, THIS ADDS UP. TO ME, IT’S A PARADOX IN D.C. TRYING TO FIGURE OUT OUR PROBLEM.”
“I’VE MIXED MULTIPLE LIQUIDS TO SOLVE THE PROBLEM IN POLITICS. HEAD’S UP: THERE IS NO SOLUTION.”
“I CAN’T BALANCE A STOOL WITH TWO LEGS … DRIVING ME CRAZY. I CAN’T STAND IT.”
“SVEN THIS IS OVER, WHAT ELSA WE GONNA DO? HANS DOWN, OLAF THIS SOCIAL DISTANCING ANNA MASKING CAN JUST KRISTOFF! … THE ICE-OLATION NEVER BOTHERED ME, ANYWAY… OR, DID IT?”
“IN DISNEY’S FROZEN, ELSA HAD NO MAN-DATED ICE-ELATION, OR DID SHE?”
“BEAST QUARANTINED. BELLE HAD A LARGE SCARF. MRS. POTTS OFFERED … ‘SO, SHAWL-DISH DANCING’ AT ITS BEST”
“6-FEET RULE FOR OFF-KEY VOCALISTS: SO SHALL THIS DUNCE SING”
“MANDATORY MASK LOGO OR FABRIC CHOICE? I DON’T CARE TO ME IT’S I’M-MATERIAL”
“EATING LUNCH OFF PLATES WHILE WASHING DISHES BY HAND? KITCHEN-COUNTER PRODUCTIVE.”
“I FEEL LIKE A DONUT. GREASY, GLAZED OVER, AND SO IN TOUCH WITH THIS EARLY MORNING WAKING UP RIDICULOUSNESS.”
“CLOCK SAYS 3:36 AM, BUT NOT TALKING. I SAY WEIRD TIMES IN WHICH WE LIVE, BUT TYPING. QUIET. SILENCE SPEAKS VOLUMES.”
“THESE DAYS, AS THE QUOTE SO APTLY SAYS, “LIFE IS A MASK-YA-MADE”
“MICK JAGGER, MICHAEL JACKSON, MICHAEL JORDAN … ALL RICH AND FAMOUS! THAT’S IT! .. MY NEW NAME IS MUG JODES”
“I NEED TO BORROW A BUBBLE-MAKER, GIGGLE MACHINE, POGO STICK, AND N95 MASK. PM ME”
“DECIDED TO FINALLY READ MY HOROSCOPE. DIDN’T HAVE ANYTHING ELSE TO DO DURING THE QUARANTINE. IT SAID I WOULDN’T BE ABLE TO FINIS..H….”
“EASTER IN TIGER KING LAND. ANYONE SEEN CAROLE BASKET?”
“AM I CONCERNED ABOUT OVER-EATING DURING THE QUARANTINE? NO, BECAUSE I AM SO OVER EATING AT THIS POINT.”
Yes, I have issues, some extra Reader’s Digests if you want to borrow them … I’ll place them in a safe location on my front porch so we don’t have to be within 6 feet of each other. Too soon? I get that. I loved “Laughter is the Best Medicine” in those little bugger of periodicals. When my grandfather passed away, all his back issues were able to be saved and sit peacefully in my file drawer as a testament to my generationally gifted gene pool of goofiness. I get all this honestly. I have back issues as well. My L2 and L3 are bothering me lately.
He was a gentleman who lived into his 100th year. Most likely because he never tried to carry an over-flowing hot craft of flaming pekoe into his den. Ironically, I sit at the very desk of his I inherited upon his passing. He’d be so proud. Not of my attempt of tea-toting, but my tape tower upon which I’ve drawn inspiration for today’s post. He was a humorist who drew inspiration from life – as I have.
My tea has melted into a cold brew. I must exit and address the issues ahead. All of us should as we must. Carry your tea carefully, my friends.