Is it May, or Tuesday?

It used to take me about an hour to get through the grocery store.

Every Sunday I would take my spa vacation at 3:00 in the afternoon with a solo trip to do the weekly food shopping. Armed with my list and reusable bags, I had a very specific route around the store that was efficient and comfortable. I perused the aisles to the sweet sounds of Cher or Chicago, marvelling at my ability to save money on our favorite items. We always have about 6 types of cereal and a plethora of cheeses. Sometimes if I felt fancy I would get some stuffed olives from the self service bar. Garlic and goat cheese. Yum. And of course I would usually pick up a donut for the bae and children.

Now.

I get lost going down those same aisles. I wander around, even with my list, and my head is foggy with...nothingness. I find myself going past the pasta numerous times, around the avocados meandering amongst the milks. Everything looks so different. Has the store layout changed? Why does it all seem so foreign? It takes me almost 2 hours now to get through my short list of items.

So strange.

I've been done with work now for about a week and a half. A slow slide into "summer".

My days have been starting at around 2:00 in the afternoon. I go to bed when I start to hear the birds chirping at 4:00am. I've had to change up when I take my meds and pretend that 2pm is the new morning.

I bought a fishing pole and have decided that it's going to be my new hobby this summer. We went on a much needed trip down to visit the in-laws a week ago and spent one day fishing in the mountains. I caught my first trout and discovered that Maya is a natural fisherperson. The trip was rejuvenating and SO necessary for our hearts. I love my in-laws and it was so healing to be surrounded by solidarity and like minds. We had so many conversations about everything from protests, chile, babies, police, fishing and racism experienced and witnessed. It was so wonderful not having to explain...anything.

It's "funny" to me seeing some posts on social media. The articles and memes reminding people to self care during this time because this "new" reality is so draining. When I read those I know they're aimed at white people. White people who are so weary from all this talk about race and brutality. White people who are just NOW learning about how BIPOC are harmed EVERY DAY.

When I see posts from my white friends talking about how their mental health has been affected because of the media surrounding Black deaths, I wince. And that low simmering rage that is always present boils up just a little.

There is NEVER a time when I'm not thinking about race and racism. Especially working in Boulder, Fucking, Colorado. I know that's a pretty common experience for most POC.

The KKK once called Boulder, "The whitest city in America."

Joy.

Not much has changed and certainly the facade of Boulder is a deceiving one.  I've never experienced racism like I have in Boulder.

It is such a privileged post to make- about how you're taking a break from the media coverage of the protests. How you are struggling with how to explain to your white child about what's going on. Isn't nine years old too young? How you will read and read and read and read and read and read.

But what will you do?


Boiling.