Notes from the Future Underground

Sunday

Bought the cats a gift that entertained them for a whole 10 minutes. So much for good Amazon reviews. Also bought an extra charger for my work laptop. And hopefully a mundane last-ever Amazon purchase. It’s hard to break a habit, but I think I’ll sleep a little better.

Monday

The inauguration. There’s not much to say that hasn’t been said better by others. The day was also the federal holiday observing Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.’s birthday (although he was born January 15). I think it’s important to remember in the context of all the MLK quotes being thrown around that he wasn’t some passive Buddha sitting under a tree somewhere. He was arrested 29 times, often on trumped-up charges. His positive approval rating is now 94%, but in eighteen months before his death, it was 33%. There is debate now how much of a socialist he was, but there’s no question he was an advocate of radical social change. He would be branded an extremist in our times. And the greatest way we honor his life is by fighting an ugly, cruel status quo.

“Colonialism and segregation are nearly synonymous . . . because their common end is economic exploitation, political domination, and the debasing of human personality” (Press release, 28 November 1962).

Tuesday

I worked on a crochet scarf for the team meeting show-and-tell, but I didn’t finish it. I also dug up my copy of On Tyranny.

I also still haven’t finished The Comfort Crisis, despite being cooped up. It was still so cold outside that I tried a foam roller workout instead of a walk. Do not recommend.

Wednesday

A long day of meetings. We started to understand just what the new “administration” will mean for our company. It’s troubling, to say the least. I try to play it cool but mention On Tyranny to at least two coworkers.

Thursday

More shakeups at work. At least the ground is thawing and I can take my tension out on my yard and the gumballs and nimblewill that are afflicting it.

Friday

It was the fifteenth anniversary of meeting my husband. Had I thought of a fake phone number fast enough, my whole life might be different.

I had splurged and bought a vintage knitting booklet that has a Pauline Trigere pattern in it. Now to actually, truly learn to knit after a dozen or so failed attempts.

Saturday

We ended up at our favorite Greek place for lunch. We hadn’t been there in months. It’s always good food, even if the memories of being there are tinged with some stress and regret. And maybe that’s just how you have to exist in the later part of life, when you can’t quite overwrite the sound on your old cassette tape, even though you taped over the little slot.

A Past Note

Five years ago today, I had two near-death experiences and ended up driving alone in the desert after dark. The sky was a deep, glowing purple and the empty expanse of road had no other headlights but mine for miles. The coldness and vastness made me feel as though I was flying through space. It was profoundly lonely. And somehow it became one of those moments that divided my life into a before and after, much like seeing the northern lights or meeting J.