A soggy walk to the shop this morning to find fresh grounds for the coffee-maker. Dodging puddles even though my shoes are already soaked. Not a single soul on the street, likely because everyone's too busy swearing they'll never drink again while shivering under bedsheets, worrying about how many sick days they have left for the year after today. A call from my in-laws asking how I am considering what day it is and channeling my inner Meryl Streep to sound upbeat and hopeful despite the fact that, deep down, I am not feeling either of those things.

Maybe it's the fact that it's raining at the moment or the fact that my mother just texted to tell me they're taking their 13-year-old dog to the vet because she's not doing well. Maybe it's the fact that I keep getting emails from work about losing access to this and that, and suture-tearing texts from friends asking who's updating the site I poured my heart into and haven't revisited since March 9th.

Or maybe it's the fact that everyone who's been so positive about this unfortunate situation expects me to do bigger, better things even though I have no interest in doing anything bigger or better at the moment because I am sad. I feel like I'm going to let everyone down in the end.

There's just so much to process at the moment. This feels like a breakup amidst all the other heavy shit happening in the world.

I positioned my camera over the trash can using a tripod. I set ISO to the lowest it will go and adjusted the shutter speed appropriately. This needs to be as clear and crisp as possible because nothing else about this is. I didn't get a proper send-off or debriefing after putting so much time and effort into this thing. We can blame the pandemic, but we all know it wouldn't have happened differently had we all been healthy. This is merely an angsty metaphor I'll be embarrassed for making in a week and consider putting back into drafts so no one can see it again.

For now, though, it stays.