Ringtail Quest

On June 23rd, my last grandparent, Papa, entered the ground. He smoked most of the 92 years of his life. Cleaning out someone’s apartment after their death is so strange…everything left behind just becomes, stuff. It was a small service filled with awkward laughter: my parents, my two uncles and their partners, and me. There were a lot of adorable ducks at the graveyard. I said goodbye at the Cracker Barrel and headed home, still not comfortable eating inside.

---

My rental is nice. I have a small room for a bed, a large over-the-garage room for work and personal space, and a basement treadmill. There are lots of deer in the neighborhood. We’re surrounded by wonderful parks and scenery, and I appreciate the access to it, if not the traffic. The weather has been so much better overall. I’ve gained 15 or so pounds, less from eating and more from having fewer excuses to be out.

I still work for the same place, and we’ve been fully remote since COVID. It’s bittersweet and mostly unchanged from my last update: very little meaningful work, declining morale, shrinking teams, and expectations that don’t match reality. Just enough work to keep me too guilt-tinged to do many other things, to keep me in this continuous frustration cycle. But I do occasionally get that accomplished feeling some days. The latest: I’m being reassigned to a new team, but neither the old or new team seems to have any idea what I should be doing. My days are probably numbered.

(Tuesday, a few weeks ago)

I had planned to get up around 8:30am but was about two hours late. My watch was tapping my wrist nonstop, but I was dreaming about having a nervous twitch that wouldn’t go away. I texted Rob from bed: “I can’t think of anywhere to go.” I eventually got up, cleaned up my office from where I left it the previous night, ate half a protein bar and snagged a quick shower. I put on a button-down, which usually helps, and eventually left at 11:30am with my iPad and two plush friends.

Daytona could be nice, I thought. About 15 minutes later I hopped on our daily call. I half-listened and un-muted for long enough to say “nothing for me.” I ended up at Wendy’s: a tiny hamburger, four nuggets, and a diet soda while listening to a podcast. I drove out to the beach to a Starbucks I remembered had outdoor seating and beach view but their lot was closed. I parked a half-mile down A1A and walked back to find the lobby closed as well. Ah well, I need some mileage today. Sun feels pretty good, I thought as I walked back, my backpack sealed to my back with sweat. The wind was heavy and smells were everywhere: seafood, salt, smoke, exhaust, seasoning. I texted Rob: “Why am I out here?” Things weren’t bad…they just felt pointless.