0 what even are we doing here?

i need to be writing things that will be published and, yo, i got nothing. 

today, i randomly ran into the romanian on the street, and i gestured towards the horizon and said, well, as you know, howard is on fire..... 

it is hard to communicate the extent of the disaster, whilst also feeling like there is no disaster? they keep saying there isn't! they keep saying everything is fine! and i'm like, is it though? IS IT THOUGH? 

i cannot believe how much has happened since last friday, a colleague texts me, and i ignore the text, because i actually haven't the emotional bandwidth to even entertain the reality of how much has happened since last friday. 

i went on some dates and went to a movie. but i know that's not what she means. 

my to do list is as long as a CVS receipt. 

learning is happening, teaching is occurring (kinda), grading isn't even sort of. 

today, i went to eliza's and we pretended we were in paris and ate all of the breads on offer. and i feel like there are more days like this in my future, and debo and garebear are coming to town next month, and the cats pile into bed with me every night, and things are mostly ok, which is a big, albeit subtle, upgrade from "pretty ok," but also howard is on fire and i can do nothing about it and i cannot protect my kids and, though it's like an electrical fence over which my brain occasionally glances, materially, i can do nothing about it beyond showing up and listening and reading and giving them the space to take care of themselves. 

it is not enough. 

but claude slaps bingley way less, so progress is possible. we are moving forward. this horrific, impossible semester is crawling towards its inevitable end. 

and i'm sad i've not seen their face. i'm sad i do not really know who they are. i feel i'm failing because i'm struggling so much. but still they seem to be getting something. still, they tell me, they're feeling their writing is improving. still, they are taking something away from our time together. 

i've been thinking for years about lost time. 

i've been thinking, especially since january, since first encountering this sign:

on my first date with the man who, two dates later, would rape me, about the loss of time over time. 

when we met, it was on zero. 

how bizarre yet apt to have to encounter a countdown from that moment every time i go to target! 

but i appreciate it. really, i do. 

time is passing. 

we are here. 

we are surviving. 

eliza says she wants to have a cocktail party on the 3rd. KBG mentions some potential plans for summer 2022. i can't picture either of those moments in the future but i am glad to be surrounded by people who are looking forward. 

my vision is cloudy. i have an astigmatism. 

the other evening, when i rendezvoused with the egyptian-- who was HORRIFYINGLY wearing sandals with socks-- he looked through my glasses and said, oh your vision isn't so bad. and he's correct: basically everyone just has perfect skin and the lights are way too enthusiastic. 

but it's all ok. as the egyptian always says, after listing his litany, no complaints, no complaints. 

we are all well. we are all here. learning is happening. survival is happening. and we are, all of us, still writing, or at least trying to.