Raquel and the boy leave tomorrow for ten days. Phoenix, to visit grandma and maybe a stop in LA and then Santa Barbara on the way home. All the Covid hotspots. All 19 of them. It is as hot as the hood of hell in Arizona right now.
Yes, it is purely 70s singer-songwriter stuff, but I taught myself to play Wild World by Cat Stevens on the guitar today. I can't claim that I have the singing down perfectly but it's not horrible, either, I don't think. I sound at least as good as Chris Cornell. Well, to me that is how my voice sounds. It's in the key of C, which is a half-step beyond where I usually venture. I suppose that I could sing it in a different key, but what the fuck.... I'd probably only confuse myself trying to transpose the chords. I have always loved music much more than I have studied it.
I am a little bit nervous about having ten days entirely to myself. At some recent times, I have envied CS' seclusion. Though it may not always be peaceful for him, it is not constant noise, distraction, and having to navigate the anxiety of others here for me. That is what we have had too much of here.
Raquel and I spent a day together today without the boy. We lounged about and watched stupid comedies in our underwear, ordered the best Mexican food Sonoma has to offer, which I assure you is as good as what you can get anywhere in the world. It helped. Those scant hours alone together seemed to mend something a bit. We are falling apart from all the constancy. Hahaha, no, that is not it, though constancy is a great word to misuse when you have clever friends that might get the joke.
It has been a very long time since I have been entirely alone for ten days. If I lost a pound each day that they were gone then I would be within ten pounds of where I'd like to be. It is tempting, to think of some overarching plan to engage in while they are gone. I did nothing with my seven week sabbatical a few years back. I read books all day until my back hurt from all the lying around.
Fuck, I just looked it up. That was two and a half years ago, the sabbatical. I'm not sure what it was that I hoped to accomplish in life, other than avoiding doing work that I didn't like, but I'm starting to worry that when all is done I will have done nothing. It is a lucky thing for me that nothing really matters, anyone can see, nothing really matters, spare us some life from our monstrosities.