Covid, Depression, Menopause or...?

 

  I have more than ten unfinished blogs. I refuse to let this be eleven, so it may not make any sense.

  There is a 14 minute video going around, probably Tik Tok, of a student walking into a classroom and greeting his teacher, who does not recognize him. Not just because of the mask, but because he is in person. The kid puts up a cardboard cutout of his google meet photo, which is just an alphabet letter, and the teacher recognizes him.

  I have had kids come in and had the same experience. A kid I knew briefly (remember I was only in the building for ten minutes before the shutdown) came in and started talking like he knew me. Not just the mask, but the fact that he was not in any of my classes contributed to me asking  if he was lost. "Are you sure I'm the one you want to talk to?" LIke he was unable to recognized me, for some reason that made sense in my head.In addition, he had grown about six inches since March of 20, so I was way off. He had to identify himself.

  This has happened enough that I don't need to recount every story. What's distressing, is that sometimes they identify themselves and I still have no idea who they are. I can't remember names.

  Jim has had projects all through the lockdowns, even though he's been able to go to work. He started with hurricane lamps in the summer and has moved onto digging out all of our closets. We now have an empty, painted closet that he told me last week I could use for whatever. I moved a few games into it from the other closet across the hall and then stopped. Until this moment, I had entirely forgotten about the empty closet. I forgot about a closet I walk past daily.

   For a week straight I was vigilant about working out for seven minutes when I arrived at school. I saw on facebook how it will transform my hideous shape if I just stick to a seven minute cardio workout every day. Then my school schedule changed and I stopped doing it. I could still find time, I just don't. I forgot about it.

   I have a grocery list that lives in the kitchen. Every week Harper orders the same groceries with some varition for pick up. If I don't write down a variation, like TIDE pods, it doesn't get ordered and I have to go to King Sooopers. Which is fine, but I get lost, I forget what I'm looking for and there is now a banner that says # BOULDER STRONG that I'm supposed to take comfort in, I guess, and feel safe shopping for whatever it is I don't know. All I know is that the sign is making whatever is wrong with me worse, and I can barely function in the store.

  My district has shattered the schedule,so instead of semesters or quarters, I am in Session number eight of eight, twenty day sessions. Each class is three hours long, two classes a day for twenty days each.  I've managed, somehow, to keep track of each class and plan daily, teaching theatre in a virtual space with a handful of kids in person sometimes or no kids in person, and yet I'm still evaluated as if this was a regular year. Showing grace to kids left and right, waiting for a bit of grace to be thrown my way. Like teaching in an empty theatre, it's absurist waiting for grace.

   I stepped in cat poop on the way out the door the other morning. The morning routine is pretty much all I'm clinging to at this juncture--today is 2 May, 2021, I've been online for over a year---and I threw the rug and my shoes and socks in the trash can by the garage,and got in the car to drive to school. I had to get back out of the car to get another pair of shoes. Once back in the car, I had to return to the house for socks.

  I carry three bags into school with me. My purse with my car key and wallet, the Door Dash insulated bag with our lunches, and my computer bag. On multiple occasions Harp has asked why I do not consolidate into one bag. I tried it one day, and we left the building ten minutes late becasue I had no idea what I had done with my car key. It was in the computer bag, in a zipper pocket. When I found it, I said outloud to Harper and the empty room "I said outloud, 'it's in the zipper pocket', now I remember." Harp just watched silently, waiting for my head to explode or my eyes to melt out of my skull.Instead I executed a quick time step. Her expression did not change.

  I park in the same place every morning. One time I parked in a different lot thinking I needed to be out of the way of food distribution, and couldn't find my car. It is bright green. It can be seen from space.

  I tried to join the staff choir, but it means altering the way I use my two hours between classes, and I can't seem to manage. All I have to do is eat lunch at 10:30  instead of 11, so I can go to choir at 11. I can't seem to make it work. Every day  at 10:30 I have to shut down the theatre, go to the bathroom, check turned in work for the am class, check planning for the pm class, open the Door Dash bag and get lunch set up for myself and Harper. I went to choir rehearsal twice and couldn't focus either time. I was not in the right place aat 11:15. I literally just left, shaking my head and when I got into the hallway I said outloud to myself "Wopner is on," and began to laugh manaically at a my own joke, hearing the sound bounce through the empty hallway back at me. 

  I was grateful to see some beloved former colleagues this Friday. We are all vaxxed and got to hug. I have no idea what I talked about, or if I made sense. All I know is that one suggested that I get therapy. So I got that going for me.

         Scene.