2020: Year in Review
I read through my diaries and it was certainly interesting reading. Particularly the start of the year, before the pandemic arrived, when there were so many things I did and took for granted.
January: Go to Chattacon along with the Gentleman Caller. We play hooky from the convention to wander the streets of Chattanooga, including the footbridge. He buys a box of donuts at his favorite donut place; I buy a polished stone the color of lemonade.
February: See Mystery Science Theater Live at the Fox Theater. I had two tickets--one that I'd bought and one that my brother and sister-in-law got me for Christmas. The one they gave me is a better seat. The film is a slice of 80s cheese called No Retreat, No Surrender, in which Jean-Claude Van Damme plays a bad guy who is defeated by a teenage boy who was trained by the ghost of Bruce Lee. (When said ghost makes his first appearance, Joel groans "Oh, man, he's not even close!")
March: Georgia has its first COVID-19 fatality. The lines at The Big Green Grocery Store go frantic. Tensions get worse because the store starts rationing certain items so they're not cleaned out all at once. I get scheduled for nine-hour shifts. The Gentleman Caller comes for a visit and cooks dinner because he doesn't trust restaurants at that stage. After a lovely time together, he announces that he's going into lockdown until the situation clears. My parents cancel our Sunday routines, first morning Mass, then Sunday dinners.
April: Governor Kemp issues a shelter-in-place order, which doesn't affect me much, since my job is essential work. Job duties now include wiping down surfaces, handles, and carts. Start adjusting to Zoom meetings with family and the Gentleman Caller as well as livestreamed Masses. The Triduum is a little stranger done through screens, but the words are still powerful and I'm as much of a mess on Good Friday as I usually am. I successfully make Eggs Benedict on Easter morning.
May: One of the employees at the Big Green Grocery Store location where I work tests positive for coronavirus. I get in a message in my inbox, but no additional information beyond Don't Worry, We've Taken Care Of It. I take their word for it. See a play called Hate Mail online, which is hilarious and perfectly set up for Zoom-based theater, even though it was written well before the pandemic. Receive new iPhone as an early birthday present, because my existing iPhone is showing severe battery problems. It is shiny and red and I have to restrain myself from playing with it constantly.
June: Restructure my schedule at The Big Green Grocery Store so I don't come in any early than 1:30 in the afternoon. It takes three tries to get it to take, because people keep losing the paperwork. Mornings are now reserved for education and, eventually, freelance work. See a doctor about my leg, which has been giving me pain for months. Get scheduled for an MRI, which reveals tendinosis (not tendonitis) in my gluteal region, likely lingering damage from the car accident in 2019. Turn 50. I have my usual twelve-hour birthday party the Saturday before on Zoom, which is well-attended and quite fun. I have a proper birthday dinner at my parents' house, out on the screened-in porch with the fan going and everybody wearing masks except to eat.
July: Begin physical therapy for leg. Take the days I would have spent in Florida and spend them at home. Write a short (very short) story called "Sentiment" about a vampire who feeds on regret. My parents move to a small condominium in a retirement community and I visit them there, masked and distanced.
August: Write a longer story called "Incident at Red's Fuel Center" about an essential worker during the zombie apocalypse. Decide to stop job hunting on Saturday mornings so I can clean my place before I have to go to work.
September: Attend virtual DragonCon, which has me attending more panels than I think I've attended in the past several in-person DragonCons. Go to see a drive-in movie in the parking lot of the Plaza Theater--Nosferatu with an original score played live. Purchase new MacBook Pro with advance on inheritance, just in time for the existing one to choke up and die.
October: Early voting begins in Georgia. I try to get it over with on the first day, but the line is running around the building, so I wait until the next day and go vote at the High Museum. I make a day of it with my freshly renewed membership, though my leg gives me too much trouble to really enjoy myself. I start two online courses in proofreading, one of which offers an opportunity for paid work if I pass the final exam at 80% or better. A massive storm knocks out power for about 30 hours and sends a tree crashing down on my favorite labyrinth (the one by my local library that I've been walking and taking care of for years).
November: Skip NaNoWriMo. Make a project of hacking off the smaller branches of the tree that fell on the labyrinth, using a lopper that my parents loaned me. Sell the guitars and bass amp that have been gathering dust for over a year. Make 95 bucks. Cry a little. Take final exam for proofreading course and make 84%. Discuss my future with the proofreading company, but won't be able to start until the new year. Get my Thanksgiving dinner to go, lovingly cooked by my mom and packed into travel containers. Breathe a huge sigh of relief at the outcome of the presidential election.
December: Test positive for coronavirus. Isolate myself accordingly. The Gentleman Caller comes by to take my trash out to the dumpster and deliver some wine and cherry juice from Trader Joe's. I learn the ins and outs of grocery delivery service, such as having to rearrange my fridge because they were out of half gallons of the milk I ordered, so they got me a full gallon instead. Make the traditional Christmas Eve dinner of poached salmon with cucumber yogurt sauce. Make entirely too much sauce, but discover that it makes a great dip for baby carrots. Make the traditional Christmas Day breakfast of Eggs Benedict; the results are flawed, but still tasty. Am spared having to cook Christmas dinner by mom cooking another to-go feast--all I need to do is bake my own potato. Spend first New Year's Eve at home probably since I moved out of the house. I watch an online celebration that includes a five-minute rendition of The Nutcracker that is worth the price of admission.
So, yeah, this year was a total dumpster fire, but I managed to get a few things done. I wrote some short stories and got a promising new job. We'll see how well the next year goes, though I think that 2020 as malevolent entity doesn't truly end until January 20th at noon.
Today I took pleasure in: kissing 2020 goodbye.
Today I learned: that Korbel Brut isn't as good without orange juice involved. This entry was originally posted at https://wonderbink.dreamwidth.org/235532.html. Please comment there using OpenID.
January: Go to Chattacon along with the Gentleman Caller. We play hooky from the convention to wander the streets of Chattanooga, including the footbridge. He buys a box of donuts at his favorite donut place; I buy a polished stone the color of lemonade.
February: See Mystery Science Theater Live at the Fox Theater. I had two tickets--one that I'd bought and one that my brother and sister-in-law got me for Christmas. The one they gave me is a better seat. The film is a slice of 80s cheese called No Retreat, No Surrender, in which Jean-Claude Van Damme plays a bad guy who is defeated by a teenage boy who was trained by the ghost of Bruce Lee. (When said ghost makes his first appearance, Joel groans "Oh, man, he's not even close!")
March: Georgia has its first COVID-19 fatality. The lines at The Big Green Grocery Store go frantic. Tensions get worse because the store starts rationing certain items so they're not cleaned out all at once. I get scheduled for nine-hour shifts. The Gentleman Caller comes for a visit and cooks dinner because he doesn't trust restaurants at that stage. After a lovely time together, he announces that he's going into lockdown until the situation clears. My parents cancel our Sunday routines, first morning Mass, then Sunday dinners.
April: Governor Kemp issues a shelter-in-place order, which doesn't affect me much, since my job is essential work. Job duties now include wiping down surfaces, handles, and carts. Start adjusting to Zoom meetings with family and the Gentleman Caller as well as livestreamed Masses. The Triduum is a little stranger done through screens, but the words are still powerful and I'm as much of a mess on Good Friday as I usually am. I successfully make Eggs Benedict on Easter morning.
May: One of the employees at the Big Green Grocery Store location where I work tests positive for coronavirus. I get in a message in my inbox, but no additional information beyond Don't Worry, We've Taken Care Of It. I take their word for it. See a play called Hate Mail online, which is hilarious and perfectly set up for Zoom-based theater, even though it was written well before the pandemic. Receive new iPhone as an early birthday present, because my existing iPhone is showing severe battery problems. It is shiny and red and I have to restrain myself from playing with it constantly.
June: Restructure my schedule at The Big Green Grocery Store so I don't come in any early than 1:30 in the afternoon. It takes three tries to get it to take, because people keep losing the paperwork. Mornings are now reserved for education and, eventually, freelance work. See a doctor about my leg, which has been giving me pain for months. Get scheduled for an MRI, which reveals tendinosis (not tendonitis) in my gluteal region, likely lingering damage from the car accident in 2019. Turn 50. I have my usual twelve-hour birthday party the Saturday before on Zoom, which is well-attended and quite fun. I have a proper birthday dinner at my parents' house, out on the screened-in porch with the fan going and everybody wearing masks except to eat.
July: Begin physical therapy for leg. Take the days I would have spent in Florida and spend them at home. Write a short (very short) story called "Sentiment" about a vampire who feeds on regret. My parents move to a small condominium in a retirement community and I visit them there, masked and distanced.
August: Write a longer story called "Incident at Red's Fuel Center" about an essential worker during the zombie apocalypse. Decide to stop job hunting on Saturday mornings so I can clean my place before I have to go to work.
September: Attend virtual DragonCon, which has me attending more panels than I think I've attended in the past several in-person DragonCons. Go to see a drive-in movie in the parking lot of the Plaza Theater--Nosferatu with an original score played live. Purchase new MacBook Pro with advance on inheritance, just in time for the existing one to choke up and die.
October: Early voting begins in Georgia. I try to get it over with on the first day, but the line is running around the building, so I wait until the next day and go vote at the High Museum. I make a day of it with my freshly renewed membership, though my leg gives me too much trouble to really enjoy myself. I start two online courses in proofreading, one of which offers an opportunity for paid work if I pass the final exam at 80% or better. A massive storm knocks out power for about 30 hours and sends a tree crashing down on my favorite labyrinth (the one by my local library that I've been walking and taking care of for years).
November: Skip NaNoWriMo. Make a project of hacking off the smaller branches of the tree that fell on the labyrinth, using a lopper that my parents loaned me. Sell the guitars and bass amp that have been gathering dust for over a year. Make 95 bucks. Cry a little. Take final exam for proofreading course and make 84%. Discuss my future with the proofreading company, but won't be able to start until the new year. Get my Thanksgiving dinner to go, lovingly cooked by my mom and packed into travel containers. Breathe a huge sigh of relief at the outcome of the presidential election.
December: Test positive for coronavirus. Isolate myself accordingly. The Gentleman Caller comes by to take my trash out to the dumpster and deliver some wine and cherry juice from Trader Joe's. I learn the ins and outs of grocery delivery service, such as having to rearrange my fridge because they were out of half gallons of the milk I ordered, so they got me a full gallon instead. Make the traditional Christmas Eve dinner of poached salmon with cucumber yogurt sauce. Make entirely too much sauce, but discover that it makes a great dip for baby carrots. Make the traditional Christmas Day breakfast of Eggs Benedict; the results are flawed, but still tasty. Am spared having to cook Christmas dinner by mom cooking another to-go feast--all I need to do is bake my own potato. Spend first New Year's Eve at home probably since I moved out of the house. I watch an online celebration that includes a five-minute rendition of The Nutcracker that is worth the price of admission.
So, yeah, this year was a total dumpster fire, but I managed to get a few things done. I wrote some short stories and got a promising new job. We'll see how well the next year goes, though I think that 2020 as malevolent entity doesn't truly end until January 20th at noon.
Today I took pleasure in: kissing 2020 goodbye.
Today I learned: that Korbel Brut isn't as good without orange juice involved. This entry was originally posted at https://wonderbink.dreamwidth.org/235532.html. Please comment there using OpenID.