I’ve been slightly productive this morning. It’s not even lunch time yet, and I’ve already don’e the laundry – it’s in the dryer as I type this. I’m dressed – in actual clothes, no less. I washed a few makeup brushes that desperately needed it. In a few hours, several eBay auctions will finish, and I’ll start packing up the sales. With any luck, everyone will pay right away, and I’ll only need to go to the Post Office once this week.
Shawshank called twice yesterday. The warden put out a memo yesterday with updates with regard to Covid-19 and the facility’s lockdown status. Currently, the place is still in full isolation. The units are divided and have staggered release and lock-in times to allow for physical distancing between inmates, and there’s no visitation. Everyone gets one free 20-minute call daily; any additional calls are $0.15/minute instead of the regular $0.20 charge. In addition to the discounted and free calls, everyone gets three free envelopes every week. For the moment, these things will continue until June 1st, and be reevaluated at that time. The warden is following the governor’s lead when it comes to reopening the place for visits.
We talked about my plans for the weekend. I was pretty down in our first call. Friday night had sucked. My Saturday morning workout didn’t do too much to help my mental state, unfortunately. I was upset that the boxes keep piling up around me. He’s got no idea when he can expect to leave. His consulate case worker hasn’t replied to me about whether or not I should send his expired identification, or if ICE will give his current license and (now void) permanent resident card to the consulate. Since US passport processing is on hold, I have no idea I can expect to receive mine. I dropped that worry in his lap last night; the fact I’d need a passport to cross into Canada had completely slipped his mind. The only info I can find on that issue is “expect significant delays of several months”.
TL;DR: we don’t know shit.
We don’t know when he’ll be released, we don’t know when I’ll be able to get started. We just don’t know. Like he said in one of his letters, it’s hard to see the light at the tunnel, when you haven’t entered the tunnel yet.
Our later call was better. I was feeling good, I’d finished most of the chores I wanted to do this weekend. All the dishes and pans were washed, which is impressive because I’m the queen of “welp, no room in the strainer, can’t wash the pans right now”. I scrubbed the tub and bathroom sink, as well as the stove and kitchen counter top. I swept the floors, then did it again after I made a mess trying to repair the vacuum. In a mostly-inaccessible corner of the dining room, I found two empty boxes. I stuffed one full with bunch of kitchen gadgets we’d amassed over 18 years of marriage, like a rice cooker and a hot chocolate maker. There’s a counter top muffin cooker that makes heart-shaped muffins. It’s all a box that will go out with this week’s trash.
My #selfcaresaturday was simply me, a tubful of bubbles, and a rum and Coke in a size that would have made Ina Garten proud. I did not, as I had been debating, shave my head.
Today, I’ll do the eBay packing, and take some pictures of the last of the larger Lego sets that remain in the house, and put them up for sale along with the left over Funko. I also need to take pics of the second half of the pony collection, and list the whole thing on eBay. With my hours at work being uncertain as time goes on, I want to have that financial cushion that the collectibles add to the bank account.
Shawshank made me promise to take some time for myself today. Whether that will entail a bit of backyard play, or simply just putting on makeup and going nowhere remains to be seen.
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