Lather, Rinse, Repeat

Every morning I wake early

Busy dreams and nightmares fill my night

The last nine weeks have shown up like an eager child tapping me on the shoulder to get up

If I don’t obey, my mind punishes me

Why is this happening? 

When will it be over? 

My thoughts go round like the ceiling fan above

Down the steps I travel to an unlit kitchen 

Plastic sandwich bags hibernate in the drawer

School lunch totes snooze in the cupboard

Who knows when they will emerge from their slumber?

The globe has quieted down

But as the sun rises, so does the activity in my house

Work, school, home, and play - once compartmentalized 

Now the spin painting wheel of quarantine has whirled them all together 

Nothing is separate; everything overlaps

I scan The Times and propel myself towards the basement 

Sweat begins to soak my oversized shirt like anxiety leaving my body

Alas, my shower washes it away

I get dressed in my beloved uniform:

Black Nike men’s sweatpants with a tank to start the day

By mid-morning the house is buzzing with voices from four screens 

Indoor activity, just like internet speed, has been forced to increase

On Tuesdays I grocery shop

Masked for protection, I chew gum so I won’t cough

Never have I seen so many paper grocery bags on my floor at once

Wednesdays I can’t wait for the husband’s pizza and wine

It’s not like me to have a regular weekly meal like this

Saturdays are for takeout. Oh, how I love new food

In my free time I draw

Other days I write 

Most days I nap

Every night I play the same two songs on the piano

“Fake Plastic Trees” will “Never Tear Us Apart”

Like Miss America practicing for the talent competition

It’s amazing how good you get when you only play two songs

And like that, the week winds down and starts all over again

Lather, rinse, repeat

Lather, rinse, repeat

I always thought the instructions on the shampoo bottle were silly

But now they are not.