5/1

I spent the day in the backyard getting some sun and eating leftovers. But not before a breakfast of greasy baked scones. I got up early to make them but saw that the kitchen counter was dirty from when M last cooked. I asked him to clean up the oil from the bacon yesterday before it got gross on the counter. He did not. I clean part of he counter and make my lavender cream scones.

After lunch I look at my seed catalogs and mark what i want to order. I’m late but I will do my best to sprout something from seed this year bc it may be my last time having this much space for a while. I know I probably shouldn’t have the energy of scarcity behind me when it comes to growing but I want to enjoy this garden while I can.

5/1

Friday was nice. As nice as a Friday can be during a pandemic. I got work done. Talked to A. Ran my Juneteenth idea by her and she saw my good intentions but also the issues I was struggling with. After talking it out I’ve decided to put that on hold. Maybe I’ll do a Juneteenth brunch Zine or something but not the full on book I was thinking like before.

C came by to drop off my next dose and it was nice to catch up! She didn’t have on a mask which was kind of annoying and she didn’t stand 6 feet away. *eyeroll* We chatted briefly about what’s new. I told her how M and I broke up and how it was for the best. Then I told her about the increase in divorces in China after their COVID-19 outbreak.

I hate to say this but it makes me feel better in a way to know I’m not alone. That there are people going through breakups, under or unemployed, not sure about their housing situation or where their next check is coming from....I feel like maybe this will give people more sympathy for folks who experience these hardships on a daily basis? Probably not.

I wanted to treat myself and M to a night off from cooking so I ordered from Dukem and we had white wine and roasted fish with our vegetarian platters and he rented the latest Guy Ritchie movie.

4/30

The day before I forgot to mention that C called me to talk through a concept that we’d been working on for a while. We’ve been waiting for the right time/opportunity to get things off the ground and weirdly, this time SEEMED like the time. We both hung up from our FaceTime call ready to work through the details. When I told M about my call with her, I immediately became exhausted because the reality was that this was NOT the time to start an entirely new business. I was stressed about letting her down for the rest of the evening. So much so that I missed another prayer call with K.

Today when I woke up, I got a text from C saying that after giving it some thought, maybe this wasn’t the time to start something new. I was relieved and told her how I was worried about breaking that same news to her, but also happy we were on the same page.

It was another day going forward of replying to emails working through ideas and preparing for life after COVID. While we don’t know when that will be, I imagine that it will happen quickly when it does and I need to be prepared. This meant looking at apartments. Looking at furniture. It’s the fun stuff about moving. After work, I sat with M and smoked a j while listening to Tom Waits. M had rearranged the living room and moved the bar into the in between. When he was moving the bottles he found an old flask of mine.

“What do you think is in it?”, he asked with a smile.

“Hmmmmm this looks like old club night flask....so something sweet probably?”

He opened it up and sniffed, “Yup you’re right!”

It was whipped vodka to be exact. On the days when I was clubbing, I used to bring my flask of whipped vodka and just order pineapple juice or ginger ale and then top that off with the vodka in my flask.

We had some Q ginger ale so I indulged myself in what I used to call a boozy cream soda. It wasn’t that bad actually. I had another and added a splash of orange liqueur.

After dinner, fig leaf fried rice, I went upstairs and watched Waiting To Exhale. My mom had the VHS growing up so I watched it all the time. It’s funny how quickly the lines came back to me and also how there were scenes I had a better understanding of now. They were in their early to mid 30 in the story just like me. I was also surprised to discover that Forrest Whitaker directed Waiting To Exhale. In fact, it was his directorial debut! According to the internet, Roger Ebert said that the tone of the film resembled Whitaker's own acting style: "measured, serene, confident." I wish there were more films like that now on Netflix and the other streaming platforms. There are a few, but not enough.

I missed the prayer call again. But then I realize that maybe I’m missing it because I don’t want to be in false community with those women. It would feel wrong to be on the phone with women who really traumatized me in my late teens doing something that I don’t actively do outloud (pray). I am praying for C but in my own way without the added extra. I’m too old to pretend and I love C but she was not without blame herself. I’m praying for her recovery but I can’t fast track my healing or overlook a wound for someone else’s potential healing.

I won’t do that.

4/29

It’s 3:58am and I can’t sleep. Neither can the birds in the playground across the street. They are chatting up a storm. It sounds like a spring morning out there. Cool. Humid. Wet. I’m scrolling online and reading articles hoping to find something that puts me to sleep, but no such luck yet.

Thinking about my age and how this sleepless night doesn’t make my body feel any younger. I caught a glimpse of my true age a few weeks back in a photo M took of me to test the light one morning. I had just woken up and my face was puffy (not drinking enough water), with a bit of slack to it (from too many years of binging on sugar).

I think about making jasmine scones. I don’t and go to bed.

Later that day I send out HTTC to more donors. We got a larger amount of support thanks to The NY Times story. M invites me for a walk in Druid Hill and I go. It’s upsetting the number of people not wearing masks. Maybe they feel that because they’re in a larger “natural” space they don’t need too? Either way, it makes me a bit annoyed. Even M didn’t put his mask on and we almost argued about in the middle of a trail by the disc golf course. He said he was only putting it on if we got near people.

Why are people so selfish?

We went back home and grilled hot dogs for dinner and I tried to make them fancy/fun. One had a bunch of greens (arugula, scallions, parsley), kewpie, and radishes. I garnished that with Dianthus petals and named it a Garden Dog.

4/28

The NYT story came out today. I was feeling pretty good about it until I shared it with M. He wasn’t as excited about having his work on the site. He was just like, “Yeah it’s cool.” He was more excited when I asked if he wanted to take the photo but he tried to play it cool. After telling him the story was up he stopped working and went upstairs to take a nap. A few hours later he came downstairs and we started arguing over the dumbest thing. It ruined my good mood and made me wish yet again that this whole corona shutdown was over and that I could start the next chapter of my life already. I’m just tired of the arguing. I’m tired of the false sense of having someone to share life with right now. When I really just have a roommate.

K from high school dm’d me to tell me about C. She was in a coma and not out of the woods yet but they believe she will be okay. She invited me to a daily prayer circle call they were having for C. She started her message with “I know I am probably the last person you expected to hear from....” or something like that and she was right. It had been 16 or 17 years since I’d last spoke to K and I think that was when I pulled up on her at her house with the Greek girls and fought her on her front lawn. Lord that was a mess but if I’m being honest shorty had it coming 🤷🏾‍♀️

And here we are now, talking because C was in a coma. Being the peacemaker she is it makes sense that she would be the one to have us communicate.

The irony of it all was that I was thinking about those days after listening to all that Destiny’s Child, Donnell Jones, and Case the day before. Thinking about my life 20 years ago and how different my life would be if I’d made different decisions. All in all including the really bad things, I wouldn’t change a thing.

I watched some docs on Netflix and then Love Jones then I realized I hadn’t taken my mushroom dose. When I went downstairs to make my chai for it I remembered the prayer call I told K I would be on but when I looked at the clock I realized I was three and a half hours late.

I had already said my prayers after hearing the news but I was angry and disappointed in myself for missing the call.

I go back upstairs and watch Love & Basketball when halfway through I realize I actually wanted to watch Brown Sugar.

I need some black love right now. Even if it’s fictional.

4/27

Today was simple and nice. I started adding my found objects onto the wall while listening to 2000s R&B and getting sentimental.

Made a salad with pansies and kale from the backyard. I’ll miss this. So much space to breathe but none at all at the same time.

The wildflowers I sowed last year are coming back again. It hurts to know that someone will enjoy my labor and that I’ll miss moments like the first bloom of the wildflower patch. Then I remember that M said he was going to cement the patch and I feel a little better.

4/26

I laid in bed for most of the day. Sherbet cried for me from my closed bedroom door and M took over her feeding duties for the morning. It’s moments like these that make me wonder if I could actually be a good mother. If I don’t feel like getting up to feed a cat would I be responsible enough to feed a little human? Or is it different because the cat is a cat and not of me? It doesn’t matter either way bc I can’t afford a baby nor do I have someone I truly desire to have one with. This is merely an observation.

I think about the things I want to do and have done in the 35 days leading up to my birthday. I lightly shared “35/35” with M yesterday and he seemed fine with me taking up a wall. It sucks that long term plans I had for this house and this life won’t come to be but it’s really for the best. I’m looking forward to creating new work in my new home and returning to my solo journey of healing with the background noise of another’s trauma or distraction of trying heal someone else.

We accept the love we think we deserve.

One of the things I considered was making cultured butter. Aging in a few weeks before my birthday and enjoying it on my birthday. Having it with a crusty sourdough and a nice glass of wine before a nice grilled meal in the backyard. We’ll see.

4/25

Today we did mushrooms after breakfast. I had already had my .2 grams that I microdose every few days but M asked if I wanted to have some caps with him today so I figured sure. He put on some Simon & Garfunkel and we sat by the living window.

Smiling.

Laughing.

Crying.

Listening.

It was mostly me doing those things. Well the crying part anyway. But they were done in his presence so I guess you could say it was together (depending on who you ask). Paul Simon brings out the tears and a smile in my mind. A smile that turns into a hammock for this memory I’ve created on this overcast afternoon. I’ll vacation here every now and again until old age causes this hammock to unfurl. Remind me to send Miss Rona a thank you note. I am a rock. I am an island.

But I will miss him.

We talked about love and life. Our “conscious uncoupling” and what that looks like moving forward to a soundtrack of Yes, Paul MCartney, Mos Def, and The XX.

4/24/20

I woke up weak and achy today. A simple mind would default to COVID but in reality I’m likely dehydrated. Video chatted in a Group FaceTime with my the fam. Pops has a beard now and looks hip and adorable. Mommy looked cute with her fresh press. She was proud of how professional it turned out. My sister and I did a show and tell of our container gardens. Contained due the lack of space and quality of soil. I hope that one day I’ll have a space truly of my own for Summer to come and play. But by that time she will likely be off to college. I ate chicken pot pie all day and drank just enough water to fool my body as I binged Little Fires Everywhere. At the perfect moment, without me asking, and as the craving struck at 1:13am M brought me a bowl of vanilla ice cream with a handful of otterbein sugar cookies. Its funny how familiarity and sugar taste the same.