Quiz #92. "We Hate the Garbage Man."
Why did I wake up on Tuesday and think it was Sunday? November reflections in Steve's Stay-at-Home Coronavirus Quiz for November 19, 2020.
Thursday, November 19, 2020. It’s been a strange week in a strange month of a strange year.
On Tuesday morning, I woke up and--for more than a few minutes--I thought it was Sunday. Awake (but before coffee), I mentally planned my day and what I needed to do before it would be 1PM and time to watch football on the NFL’s RedZone, my Sunday ritual. And then it hit me. It was Tuesday--and I’d already watched my Week 10 dose of football less than 48 hours earlier.
As noted in Quiz #10. Tuesday, I have long held that Tuesday is the worst day of the week. You power through Monday, but on Tuesday--especially late in the day on Tuesday--it hits you. Work and life seem unrelenting, the week never-ending with not even a flicker from the light at the end of the tunnel. Maybe waking up and thinking it was Sunday was my subconscious attempt to skip Tuesday.
In part, it was also the fact that during the day on Monday, I worked on a long-term project so was away from the day-to-day demands of my job. And yet, I think it’s the nature of stay-at-home pandemic life to lose track of time. What’s more, the current nationwide surge of the virus seems like a slow-motion nightmare. A lot of people saw it coming. Experts said it would get bad when summer was over and Sara’s always reminded me that historically the second wave is so much worse than the first. Hunkered down more than ever, I’ve felt the need to lay even lower
And yet, here we are. November 19th--and one week until Thanksgiving. How is November more than two-thirds over? With work and the election, it’s been a very busy time. This is only the second coronavirus quiz that I’ve written this month. One thing I’ve been doing is getting ready to send out our holiday greeting. We send them to a lot of people and I really like the old-world value of an in-paper holiday greeting that annually connects you to family and friends.
It should surprise no one to know that I approach our holiday newsletter with an obsessive intensity. What’s more, our newsletter takes the form of a “What did NOT happen?” quiz which, as noted in Quiz #11. The F-Word, was the inspiration for using a quiz format here in documenting my experiences during the pandemic.
Writing the holiday quiz is a ritualized ordeal in our family--and it always begins in the first two weeks of November. I start by taking notes on my phone, listing things to highlight about each member of the family. It then takes me a day or two to pound out the quiz, typically 3 pages of single-spaced copy with between 7 and 10 multiple-choice “What did NOT happen?” questions about every member of the family, including the dogs. Sara then reads the whole thing, looking for errors in truth and tone. A common refrain from her is, “You do realize this is a holiday greeting, right?” Once Sara has signed off, I send a copy of each child’s question to each of them. (They don’t get to see the whole thing until it’s sent out.) Each child checks his/her question for accuracy. They also let me know if I have crossed the line in publicly sharing what they want to remain private.
The holiday quiz also includes a photo collage. I go through Shutterfly to survey the family photos from the year and then put them into a collage. That collage also gets sent to each family member so each can approve his or her picture.
In a typical year--which this was not--I’d then take the collage and the approved, printed quiz to Kinko’s, making several hundred 2-sided copies of the quiz.
With the virus surging, we didn’t feel safe going out to make copies of the quiz so we’re sending a card instead. Inside, readers will be given instructions on how--if they want--they can request an online copy of the holiday quiz. The quiz is written in the third person and as I have noted in a description of this process, “Steve simply can’t seem to do anything that’s not more complicated than it needs to be.”
Preparing the holiday quiz is part of my holiday routine and returning to it at this time of year has been comforting to me. Sara and I were worried about shipping delays that we actually prepared the Shutterfly card first. We wanted to allow plenty of time to have the order processed, shipped and delivered. We ordered it on Sunday, November 8th. The cards arrived 3 days later, on Wednesday, November 11th. When the cards are ready to send out--never before December--we just hope the post office will remain reliable (which is its own 2020 refrain).
I think another part of the reason that I woke up Tuesday thinking that it was Sunday was what had happened the night before. On Monday night, Sara and I watched the series finale of “Schitt’s Creek.” It was incredible--and somehow felt like a Saturday night experience. We both laughed and cried--and now feel like we have said goodbye to a friend but in a good way. The “after” wrap show, “Best Wishes, Warmest Regards” is driven by Daniel Levy--and it’s equally brilliant. A delightful dessert after a long dinner.
The show, quite clearly, was the work of Daniel’s singular genius, completely committed to getting every detail--including fashion--just right because details are the fabric of our lives—and they matter. In the wrap show, he talks about how he came to his father with the idea for the show and the first thing they did was to plot out the characters, filling out each of them with extensive detail on who they were and where they’d come from. Daniel says he was frustrated by that at first, but it paid off with the show’s delightful tapestry of what turn out to be good people, trying their best and discovering love for each other--and most of all, for themselves. If you’ve given up on the show--we did once before--hang in there. It’s beyond great.
Note well: In my Saturday conversation with my siblings, my sister Susan, after reading Quiz #89 “Covid-Good” in which I’d documented the things I was doing to try to sleep better, observed that the things I was advocating for to get a better sleep in this work-from home life--setting up a separate place for work and staying off devices before going to bed--were pretty basic. I know that I am often late to the party--and am sorry to now sing the praises of “Schitt’s Creek” and staying off devices before going to bed. If you’re annoyed, I am sorry. What can I say? “You were right!”--and I hope hearing that gives you some comfort.
As the work week has trudged on, I’ve been pulled back into rhythm of the work week. Tuesday night at work was difficult. Wednesday night was a late one. I still woke up this Thursday morning way too early--with no thought that it was Sunday. A mid-morning nap awaits. My second slumber’s arrival was delayed by the Thursday morning arrival of the garbage man. He comes every Thursday between 9 and 10. Another ritual to mark the progress of the week--and if Sara and I do not notice the trash getting picked up, the dogs certainly do.
Each weekday, Happy and Stella are joined by Betsy’s dogs, Brownie and Fred, who come for doggie daycare while Betsy teaches school (which, for now, is still open for in-person learning). The dogs may not remember the rhythm of the work week, but with their keen sense of hearing, they can identify the sound of the garbage truck as it drives up for trash collection. When the garbage man stops and makes his first approach on our southern flank, walking down the driveway of our neighbors to the left, the dogs go on high alert to stave off the outside intruder to our well-maintained bubble. Things reach a fever pitch when the garbage man passes across yard and goes down our driveway on the northern flank, the right side of our house, to pick up our trash from the back. The dogs’ panic only lasts for a minute or two--and when the garbage truck pulls away, the perimeter protected again, they calm down and return to slumber.
Is the work week over yet?
When will we stop being stuck on Tuesday?
“We hate the garbage man.”
What did not happen?
A. When Sara read the first draft of the holiday quiz, her first reaction was that it was too long. Eight pages of single-spaced copy. Gulp. She printed it out, crossed out two whole questions and chunks of sentences for every question. It’s better for her edits. (In editing this Coronavirus Quiz before I published it on Substack, Sara added the following comment here, “WOW. High Praise!!!”);
B. Will is typically the most attentive of our adult children when it comes to reviewing his quiz question. In years past, he’s rewritten what’s been written about him. In 2020, we got a text from the basement, “My quiz question looks great btw!” He did ask for one correction on a fact I’d gotten wrong;
C. Betsy’s approval came from school. No changes! From Ted, there were multiple changes requested--mainly to make it clear that he’s been upbeat about the impact of the virus on 2020;
D. Annie emailed me, “This is your best Annie quiz question.” I responded, “ Wow! High praise.” Annie’s response, “High praise, indeed;”
E. John texted the approval of his question while waiting on line for a Covid test, “Quiz looks fine to me. I was cracking up.”
Want the answer?
Answer #92. “We Hate the Garbage Man.”
If you’re a subscriber, the answer will be sent to you as a separate email when the question is published.
Want more?
Here’s the next quiz in the series: Quiz #93. Unhinged.
Here’s the previous quiz in the series: Quiz #91. “I’m Here.”
Here’s the first quiz in the series: Quiz #1. Stella and Social Distancing, March 13, 2020
Here is an archive of all the quizzes.
The quiz is explained here: Steve’s Stay-at-Home Coronavirus Quiz.
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