Quarantine means talking to myself about lunch
We’ve been asking members of the KC community to submit stories about life under house arrest. If you’ve got a story you’d like to share, please send it to firstname.lastname@example.org for consideration. Today, Frank Schloegel shares a brief story about his recent experiences inside. Schloegel runs a family business near 63rd and Troost with his wife, daughter, and son.
I was walking into my office yesterday and when I got through the glass doors my daughter said, “Why were you making that angry face?” And I realized I had been talking to myself. I was mad that I didn’t like the Poke option I had tried. I missed the lunch I used to get.
I talk to myself a lot of that these days. I’ve addressed the response to the coronavirus, of course, but have also tackled such issues as deciding on the appropriate street to convert to a pedestrian/bicycle thoroughfare to run from Waldo to Downtown, how great it is to spend so much time with my kids, how horrible it is to spend so much time with my kids, why it’s ok to not vote for Joe Biden, why it’s not ok to not vote for Joe Biden, thinking of the proper response to my daughter when she says she hates me, creating a new universalist theology that incorporates all past and future manifestations of the divine.
Too many issues to list.
The point is that I am spending a lot of time in my head. Making lists, organizing thoughts, crafting arguments – and what is the point? What if there is no point? And why is all of this causing me to make an angry face as I talk to myself?
I think it is the death. The dying.
It is easy to say offhand, we are all going to die, but it’s another thing to sit with it, turn it around in your head, see it in all things all the time. Because this is why we are doing this, right? Because we don’t want to die, and we don’t want to kill other people. So we put on masks to go to Whole Foods, and Home Depot, and get our curbside pickup from a locally owned restaurant.
I am here to promote living. And to talk to myself about lunch.