When the pandemic first became real and isolation was mandated, the question of “What should I do while I’m bound to my home?” arose.
Many people announced cleaning regimens. Closets were parsed, kitchen shelves reorganized, like that. I am not an adamant cleaner. I keep my place neat but have developed a fairly high tolerance for dust. Yet, dusting and vacuuming seemed fairly eh. Lacked gravitas.
To my surprise, I launched into cleaning my refrigerator. Which badly needed it. As I scrubbed and restored the shelves to glass gleam, I got a spurt of pride and pleasure.
My attitude toward kitchen shelves is pretty simple. If I take up my valuable time to clean you, I expect you to stay clean for…whatever time delineation comes somewhat before forever. So I haven’t cleaned them since.
Tomorrow I will be getting my last vaccine shot. I’m thinking I should be doing something as commemoration. Of course, I won’t be removing my mask when I leave to shop, or failing to scrub my hands if I’ve been wandering the outdoors. I won’t be going out to eat for a couple of weeks.
So what can be done to honor this final stage of this monumental lost year, this universal pause?
I could clean the refrigerator shelves again. I could. But such an act would lack serious resonance.
I could return the library book which I have unaccountably been holding for so many months I will owe the library more than the price of the book. After all, my library is only a short walk away. No reason why I can’t stroll down there and offer a confession and cash. No reason.
Something should pop up, if not a champagne cork.