“Remoted” – Day 424 (Friday)

The Friday feeling was in full effect. There was a laser focus and work tasks were completed for the pure joy of crossing them off the list. The presentation for the Public Speaking class final next week was practiced and timed and a full minute needs to be shaved.

As a test, I tried starting the gas mower that wouldn’t work last Friday. After three or four attempts, it cooperated. Maybe it’s the arm strengthening effects of multiple shifts with the push mower earlier in the week, maybe it’s the phase of the moon, maybe it’s the empowering effects of anger and rage, who knows.

White violets on the prowl.

Mom and StepDad are coming tomorrow, and it was important the lawn be neat so that StepDad wouldn’t feel compelled to mow it. Thanks to the gas mower, the front and back yard grass is now evenly cut and free of the lush clusters of faux grass. The front yard has a minor invasion of white violets creeping into the lawn. I love them, and mowing around them was the goal, but dang, that is harder than it seemed it should be and there were some casualties. 

Groceries were delivered, which is still my favorite pandemic luxury. The bags were set on the doorstep and a text arrived saying the driver needed help. There was no help needed. The text continued with a note saying the order was delivered, thanking me for the order, and saying that a five-star rating is very important to the person who delivered it and their family, and telling me to have a wonderful day. After seeing the note, I don’t have the heart to complain about the cracked egg that leaked all over the bag and everything else in it. Nicely done, delivery person.

The evening's entertainment consisted of the Netflix series Halston, which sent me back to the days of high school and college when I cared about fashion and W, a consumer publication of Women’s Wear Daily, was my bible. The series touches on the emerging designers like Calvin Klein and Ralph Lauren,  and Halston saying he won’t put his name on jeans "because they are a fad." There are days I wish that had been true. 

In my fashion obsessed days of college, the walls of my bedroom were covered in collages featuring the top models and designers. A male friend of the time had remarked that other girls he knew had pictures of male singers and actors on their walls, but my walls were "a lesson in style." Looking back, it was fun to care about fashion and designers and perfume and lifestyle. My, how life has changed. Now, my life is dominated by dogs and pet food and medications and lawn mowing, and  I couldn't name one contemporary designer if my life depended on it. So sad.