community | Good Times with Jess

I don’t have to move after all!

I didn’t know that I would cry tears of joy over a town election, but I did.

National politics may still be deplorable, but short of leaving the country, we’re not going anywhere.

We’re so committed to staying that we bought a new sactional for my home office. I do not think it’s deductible.

For Mother’s Day I received this note from five-year-old RB:

I’ll address this in chronological order:

There are people in my family with blue eyes; I am not one of them.

I do not love to eat chicken. My family loves to eat chicken, so here we are.

One of my favorite drinks may be wine… just wondering why the daily coffee didn’t make the cut.

A box of instant mac ‘n cheese is one of my specialties.

I do dearly love to exercise.

I’m not sure what games she’s referring to, but piggy-back ride up to bed is a favorite of mine.

Snuggles are the best.

And snuggles on my new sactional are great too.

I don’t know who has put together a Lovesac sactional before, BUT it made me question all of my life choices.

I’m surprised there was no offer of white-glove service. Not that we would have paid extra for that. I know a guy. But still.

I ended up carrying in all fifteen boxes by myself, including six that weighed fifty-three pounds.

The boxes arrived at 1pm when Captain was at the office and I had dreams of having my coffee (2nd favorite drink) on my new sactional the next morning.

After blood, sweat, so much sweat, no tears, we hit 11:30pm and Captain pondered the pillows. He said,

“I’m wondering if that pillow should be switched with this one.”

I could not have finished the couch in nine hours without Captain, but I also couldn’t find any level of caring about the pillows.

They’re lucky to be stuffed into their cases and they may now go wherever they want.

“I have to go to bed.”

We are less than a week into our 60-day trial period with free returns, but it’s safe to say, she’s not going anywhere.

In part because she’s very comfortable, but also because I CAN’T IMAGINE BOXING THIS WHOLE THING UP.

As I struggled for hours to stuff cushions into washable covers. I said multiple times,

“I’m never washing this couch.”

Lies. All lies. Three days into the new couch, RB vomited all over it. Into the wash it went.

It came out perfect and putting one cushion back into its case is really not bad compared to upholstering twenty-seven different parts of the couch.

Come on over, have a seat, have a glass of wine, some chicken and mac ‘n cheese and some snuggles. I’m here.

On town election night I was at the Boston Ballet with a dear friend and the bathroom stall had this sign on the door. I don’t remember this from before, but maybe that’s because I’m always in a mad rush. It’s definitely worth holding onto your hopes and dreams. Overrides do happen.

I miss people. I miss the women I used to see at yoga and zumba; I don’t even know their names. I miss our favorite grocery store cashier. I miss the various moms I used to chat with just about anywhere. I miss sitting at a bar surrounded by people I’d rather not talk to.

I miss bartending. I used to talk to SO MANY PEOPLE. Never mind eat all their leftovers.

I read an article along this vein and it has allowed me to acknowledge that I really really miss the random people in my life who I don’t even know.

I was out for my daily walk the other day. As I passed another person, I threw out a standard,

“Good morning!”

At which point he fills me in on everything going on in his life. I have not met this neighbor before. And in pre-pandemic life I would have done the slow inching away, signaling that the conversation is all done I’ve got other things to do. But I do not have other things to do. It’s a pleasure to meet your dog, please tell me more.

During another walk a random car pulls over a safe distance away from me and the driver rolls down the window. Pre-pandemic my reaction would’ve been disinclination to talk and keep moving. This time I stop in my tracks and return the realtor’s greeting with a cheerful “hello!”

Sorry I do not know anyone interested in selling their house. Unless it’s possible to sell a house with a half-finished deck? KIDDING. Not kidding. I’ll be at the Cape all summer, let me know when it’s done.

Turning the corner on a year for the pandemic and year three for the deck. It’s anyone’s guess which will be done first.

I can’t even text with all these random people I’m missing. It’s just a big empty void. Like where the railings and stairs of my deck are supposed to be.

When I sat down to write this blog I hadn’t intended to make a deck pandemic life analogy, but here we are.

I’m in love with my family, blessed beyond what I could have ever imagined. They’re the concrete filled sonotubes of my deck. If you don’t know what sonotubes are, consider yourself lucky.

But I also wouldn’t mind some more people in my life. Kinda like a deck is nice but a deck with railings, throw pillows and cocktails is even nicer.