Jeepers, to Say the Least
“Okay Google, please tell me that everything is going to be alright.”
Alright! Well, where do we even begin? I can honestly say I have never lived through a pandemic before. First and foremost, I hope these words find you some place safe and healthy. I am here at the Fox Den with a cup of peppermint tea, Kleenex box (allergies) and a multigrain bagel with medium cheddar cheese slices. I realize that was an abundance of detail; except I am trying my best to keep myself anchored in the present moment in fear that I might drift off.
Yesterday, did I ever drift. I drifted off into a sea of cheap red wine. Not surprising of course, but also not recommended. After being “good” for the last week in light of everything that has happened, I cracked up for a hot minute.
At first, the daytime wine paired with the springtime sunshine felt quite pleasurable.
By 3 o’clock in the afternoon, I was officially somewhere over the rainbow. With Netflix streaming itself into oblivion and text messages coming in from friends across the globe, I asked Google to accompany my mood with the classic Mariah Carey album, “The Emancipation of Mimi.” By track 3, “Shake it Off” I had officially become that panicked drunk who knocks over their glass before slurring, “it’s going to be fiiiiiiiiiinnnnneeeeee! Shake, shake, shake, shake, shake it offffffff.”
“When I look back at last week, it all feels like a blur. ”
And then I got a text message from my friend Maggie.
“Rugged, how are you? Where are you? I love you.” she wrote.
“Mags!!!!!!” I replied. “Ahhh!!! I love you too!!!! I am goooood!!! I am at the Fox D3n where troubles melt like lemon drOps!!!!!!”
And then my phone rang.
“Rugged, what is going on, how much wine have you had to drink?”
And then I fell apart.
My exclamation marks turned into frantic pauses as tears gushed down my cheeks into the finely-trimmed hairs of my red beard. “I should have seen it coming,” I sobbed to Maggie. “How could I have not seen it coming? All this time! How could I have been so naïve?” It all just happened so fast!” On the other end of the line, Maggie remained as cool as a cucumber, calm as a pond. “It’s going to be alright,” she consoled, “this is a very stressful time.”
As human nature would have it, when change arrives in the form of a virus, its damaging effects are swift and crippling.
When I look back at last week, it all feels like a blur.
One minute I was on Vancouver Island buying up the sale of a lifetime at The Bay.
Then I was at Claire’s house, drinking rosé with CLARK, reading to toddler Jack and wondering why Claire’s husband was so upset.
Then on Thursday, the country shut down and for the first time I thought, “maybe I should pick up some toilet paper.”
On Friday night at the restaurant, I cut off a guest from more white wine after she started screaming out, “THE WORLD IS ENDING!” on the patio.
And then on Monday, temporarily laid off from both serving jobs, I, alongside 500,000 other people in this country, submitted an application for EI.
This morning when I woke up, I poured myself a cup of coffee, turned off my phone and set to work clearing the haze I had inflicted upon my mind. Taking a sip of dark roast, I whispered, “Stop. Relax. Keep the windows closed and breathe in the air from your air purifier. It’s going to be alright.”
For now the plan is to follow instructions for the health of myself and the world and stay put at the Fox Den. And heck! All this time, I have been wishing for more time to write. Well, I should have been more careful.
