It's funny how life goes on

It’s President’s Day and late in the afternoon. I had the day off and planned to wake up and write, but the urge to sleep in won the morning—and I let it. I’m not going to lie, the last couple of weeks have been stressful and all I wanted to do this morning was lazily close my eyes and seep in the extra hours. 

So I took my time starting the day. I made some tea and worked on a side project for about an hour, all while YouTube videos played in the background. Mid-morning came and my neighbor texted to see if I wanted to go to the cafe up the street to pick up coffees and a breakfast treat. 

I agreed and stopped what I was doing. I pulled on a waterproof jacket over the long sleeve shirt I was already wearing and layered a surgical mask under a fabric mask across my face. Then I put on some shoes and grabbed my wallet and phone before heading downstairs. 

We met out on the street and walked over to the Beanstalk cafe. There were only two other people there. They ordered while we waited outside and then we switched places with them. Since it was already fairly late in the morning, I ordered a tea rather than a coffee as well as a baked good. 

Then my neighbor and I sat at the red bistro tables outside as we waited for the barista to make our drinks. 

Once our beverages and breakfast items were in hand, we walked back to our apartments and we decided to eat together and watch some TV. 

The day seemed to disappear from us and it was afternoon by the time I went back upstairs. We had decided that a couple of beers sounded delicious—only partly because the characters on the show had been drinking some.

When I returned to his apartment, I checked my phone and saw that I’d received a text from a property manager. There were two one-bedrooms open in side by side buildings down the street and we’d expressed interest in them. Our two other friends already lived in one of the buildings and the thought of a real-life Friends scenario was thrilling. 

We texted him back, confirming details and timing, and then Facetimed our friends while we browsed for furniture online. After saving a couple of favorites, it was time for me to head back upstairs to my own apartment where I did some dishes and took out my compost. 

I found an episode of the British show Mock the Week and watched it as I washed bowls and mugs and flatware. 

While wiping a dish with a dish cloth, I received a surprise text from another friend who lives in Los Angeles. She was checking to see if I was home and if I’d like to wave hello to her, her husband, and their baby who I hadn’t been able to meet yet. 

“YES,” I replied with all caps. 

And so just a short while later, I raced downstairs to say hello. In just twenty minutes, we caught up on work, life decisions, challenges, and basic quarantine chit chat—all while admiring the dimples of the four-month-old who wore a knitted sweater, chic gray sweatpants, and a black beanie. He stared out at us curiously and laughed when his mom bounced him and was very happy when a squeaky giraffe toy was produced during the end of the conversation. 

It’s funny how life goes on, I couldn’t help but think. 

After saying goodbye and returning to my apartment, I had to reflect on the fact that life was going on for me as well—in a much smaller way. I’d been in this apartment for two years and now I was preparing to leave it behind.

Another writer lived in this building. It’s named after him. And I like to think that the creative energy of an artist can be felt in its foundation. He wasn’t very happy here, but I don’t think that always matters to a writer.