Day 8 - California Reopening Plan - Phase 3

9:00 - 9:30 - The dog pooped next to the front door. This is always so odd, as we never exit out the front door - we head out the back door, to the backyard, every morning. Cheese and back upstairs to get ready.

9:30-10:45 - Shower. Minimal make-up. Covid-19 uniform. Leave for my therapy appointment.

11:00-11:30 - As always, it is nice to talk to my therapist. This week’s topic: retirement. I’m retiring from my 40-hr-a-week state job in August. My supervisor, whom I genuinely like, kindly reduced my caseload after I gave my agency a 10-month advance notice. Then, when California shut down in March, my agency converted to telecommuting. With such a low caseload and working primarily from home, it feels like I’m retired so I am calling the last three months a “trial run.” I’ve largely enjoyed “retirement”, but this last week, I’ve felt ‘adrift’ and it’s hard to parse out whether my feelings are a result of the pandemic and California shutdown or if they’re connected to retirement from my most time-consuming job out of the four jobs I currently have (the other three are part-time and consist of adjunct instructor and subbing). My therapist assures me these feelings are in light of the pandemic, as California residents have been unable to go to concerts, local theater, sports events, bars, restaurants, etc. But, she says these things will change.

When I tell her I feel like I should be doing something and that staying home is for “losers”, even though I enjoy gardening and reading, she says, “Why can’t you just ‘be’? Enjoy the space and time that allows you to read a good book or watch a documentary or garden.” She says there’s nothing wrong with staying at home and reading, gardening, or cooking and encourages me to avoid labels. Being at home does not make you a ‘loser’, she says. I’ve spent my whole life pushing myself to do other activities so as not to succumb to the ‘crazy, cat-lady, spinster’ stereotype even though, currently, the dog is, in fact, driving me out of my f—king mind. So, I have a strange sense of unease when I’m at home doing these activities, as I think, “Should I be doing something more dynamic?” “Getting out of the house?” “Doing something cool?” But, doing what, exactly? Several of my go-to activities have been curtailed. She gives me some things to think about until our next session in 2 weeks.

12:00-4:00 - My high school students took the online Final today, from 8:00 a.m. - 11:00 a.m., and there are the typical, whacky misadventures associated with being a high school senior. One student emailed me multiple times, in a panic, at 11:00, after the Final was over, stating that he overslept, apologizing, and begging to be allowed to take it. Reset.

Another student emailed me that he had an appointment with his counselor and couldn’t log in from 8:00-11:00 to take the Final, which begs the question, “Why didn’t you tell your counselor you had a Final scheduled from 8:00 to 11:00?” Reset. Three students, after taking the Final and seeing how close their semester grades are to a B or A, asked to submit the extra credit assignment, late (7 weeks late to be exact). Great. More papers to grade when I thought I was done. Sure (sigh).

I check my junior college email, just in case, and the Zoom convocation is scheduled for 7:30 p.m. - I confirm.

-In between, I conduct personal business. The HELOC drags on. As stated in an earlier blog, I need to submit my 2014 Promissory Note, which I don’t have. The HELOC representative tells me I can get it from Mr. Cooper, my mortgage company, but in the Covid-19 era, everything takes sooo long to do. I’m starting to rethink this HELOC, but I call Mr. Cooper and speak to a live representative from Texas, and she pulls the note and emails it to me. This takes 45 minutes, but at least I have the note. Exhausted from this exchange, I do NOT hurriedly email it to the HELOC bank. Tomorrow…

-A few weeks ago, one of the sponsors on the Money Diaries website, Clothmyths, was featuring extremely cool masks. I felt that having some stylish, innovative masks would make me feel a little better as I navigate my way through a pandemic, so L. and I picked out 4 masks and I placed the order around May 1 for $45.96 (shipping was $15!). My card was immediately charged instead of the typical charge at time of shipping, which I found strange. The masks never arrived.

Clearly, it was a scam. In my opinion, talented Chinese seamstresses, probably at the suggestion of Great Leader Xi Jinping, were hired to create a huge variety of sample masks that they could feature on their American website, but just ONE prototype for each sample. I’m certain the vendor, if one even exists, had no intention of mass-producing the masks, let alone shipping them. Every time I track my order it says the same thing: “Guangzhou - Warehouse order awaiting packaging”, and it’s been awaiting packaging for almost 30 days. There is no contact email or phone number and the only way to communicate with these people is through Instant Messaging, to which they never respond to my repeated question: “Where is my order?”

I give up and call Chase bank to reverse the charge in between fielding my high school students’ frantic emails. Recall this is taking place in Covid-19 time, so add an extra hour to every task you need to complete. I am finally transferred to someone from India, whom I can barely understand, which is a disappointment after talking to a Texas female previously. Her sentences are punctuated throughout by the incessant crowing of a rooster. She is telling me something, but I can’t hear because her accent is thick and that damn bird! “I’m sorry”, I say, “but I can’t hear what you’re saying because of the…rooster.”

She responds, “Yes, I’m sorry for the interruption, but due to Covid-19, like so many other employees, I am working from home.” Where? In a barn? For fun (not), I use tick marks to count the number of times the rooster crows. It is 32. Could it be the same bird? Why won’t she mute the rooster(s)? At the 28th crow, I actually say, “Oh my god!” as it is that loud and piercing. She calmly states, “Yes, I’m sorry about the interruption”, then reverses the charge. This task also took 45 minutes.

-Finally, I call Waste Management and try to arrange for a pick-up of the old paint cans that my ex left in my garage. A month ago, I spoke to a Waste Management representative (male) who informed me that my trash company will do curbside pick-up of hazardous waste materials, to include paint. I need only to put sand in the paint cans, then schedule an appointment. Since I don’t live on a beach, I ordered a 10-pound bag of kitty litter two weeks ago and it arrived a few days ago. Today, I call Waste Management and explain that I’m ready for my pick-up. Nobody knows what I’m talking about and “Yolanda” tells me that curbside service for haz-mat materials in Santa Clarita was stopped in 2018. She tries to tell me to drop off the cans at the Sherwood Williams closest to my house, but they’re still closed, then gives me a location in LA - I’m not going all the way to LA to drop off some paint cans. I’m so irritated.

I hang up on her and check the Waste Management website myself. She’s right - there is no curbside service for haz-mat materials in Santa Clarita. I again call the 1800 number hoping I can get another employee to check one last time. Clearly, Yolanda doesn’t like me and is NOT willing to make an exception. But, after diligently checking and placing me on hold for approximately 20 minutes, the second female confirms there is no curbside service for hazardous materials in Santa Clarita and no location in my community that will take them. So, I’m stuck with half-filled paint cans AND a 10-pound bag of kitty litter.

And just like that, my never-ending, on-going, evolving to-do list, that I have had since I gave birth to L., is finished. I have actually reached the end. I don’t know quite know how to feel about this - I. have. nothing. pending. I have nothing to do.

4:00-5:00 - I eat the rest of the pasta and chicken I made from last week and dump bottled marinara sauce on it. I read The Couple Next Door.

5:00-6:00 - I do the dishes, clean the kitchen, and pack my breakfast and lunch for tomorrow.

6:00-8:30 - I clean up the yard, trim dead leaves, and clean the red-rock flower bed. Then, I gather all the blue and green crystals that I’ve thrown on top of the rocks, over the past several months, wash them with dish washing soap so they’ll sparkle again, and return them to the rocks. I spray down the astroturf and water my plants. I listen to True Crime Garage while I work.

8:30-9:30 - I go online and read the news.

9:30-1:00 a.m. - I write a 4/5-page paper (my last assignment and worth 150 points) for my French literature class, wherein I make the argument that Betty Friedan’s Feminine Mystique is actually a plagiarized version of Simone de Beauvoir’s Second Sex, written 14 years earlier. I submit it online.

1:00-2:30 - L. and I watch Married at First Sight and scream at the TV.

2:30-3:30 a.m. - I wet and braid my hair. Bedtime routine and I use my new Oil of Olay eye cream on top of everything else I do for my face. Bed.