Writing With Abandon

Ana sends the message to our Slicers WhatsApp chat on Wednesday: “Hi slicers, I’m hosting tomorrow’s writing group on Zoom. If you feel like writing together, I’d love to have you!”

The last and only other time I came to the Thursday writing group was on a Thursday that I worked late and was super distracted. I think I was trying (and failing) to file my taxes online (I ended up going to H&R Block, and good thing I did, cause they got me a refund versus the thousands TurboTax was gonna have me owe). I hadn’t eaten much. I didn’t engage the way I know I can. I didn’t write the way I know I can, either.

So this week, I was determined.

“Can you send a reminder tomorrow at 7:40?? I will try to make it!”

And right on cue, she did.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. Because tonight’s prompt is what we did in the hour before logging onto the Zoom.

At 7pm, I was lying back on a bolster for a supported savasana in my Thursday yoga class with Susie, my favorite instructor. Vinyasa with sound bowl ending.

At around 7:15pm, I was putting my props away and rolling up my mat. I said goodbye, and headed out into the evening air.

At 7:20pm, I was crossing Alhambra Plaza, looking at the three random cop cars with their lights flashing, double parked against the median, where three women were on their phones looking concerned. I wondered what had happened, but didn’t see any signs of an accident, so kept moving.

As I walked along Alhambra Circle towards home, I read a few texts from our CRT chat, and then opened my Jetpack app. It had been glitching in the morning, not letting me leave comments. So I cautiously read a few slices and commented. Gi’s about girl dinner. Vicky’s through the perspective of a rooster. Sophie’s middle-of-the-night slices. Jesu’s síndrome pre-viaje. Carol Ann’s about missing her dad.

At 7:27, I glanced up and saw my building aglow. I went to snap a photo, but saw it wouldn’t showcase the golden light in the same way. It would just look like a random photo of a street. Whatever. I love my building.

At 7:28, I went to cross the street. A woman crossed with me, pushing a baby stroller with a newborn. She was wearing a t-shirt that said MOM GROUP DROP OUT. I walked on the side of the cars as an extra layer of protection for them.

At 7:29, I entered my building and waved to Jon. I needed to walk Pheebs and feed her too, then feed myself. Would I have time to shower?

At 7:33, I got home. Phoebe jumped down from her perch on the couch to greet me. I slid the harness on her and left my phone on the table as I brought her down to pee. I riled her up in the elevator as we came back upstairs. I fed her.

7:36pm. What to eat, what to eat.

I opened the fridge. Nothing.

I opened the freezer. Frozen meatballs from a few weeks ago? Nah… Frozen Trader Joe’s tamales? Yup.

Wrap in a wet paper towel, microwave 3-4 minutes, let stand 1 minute.

Could I shower in that time? Maybe not. I was too hungry.

I scrolled more on Jetpack. Con’s slice. Ana’s about Thursdays.

Ping! Ana’s text reminder came in, right on schedule. 7:40pm.

My tamales were ready. I ate them while I continued to read slices.

At 7:53, I gathered my laptop, my reading glasses, and my water. I reset the dryer that I’d put on before yoga because our loads usually need a second run.

At 7:54, I determined that I did have enough time to shower.

At 7:58, I put on my pajamas.

At 7:59, I determined that I did not have enough time to wash my face.

At 8:00, I clicked onto the Zoom link and met the other ladies here tonight.

We all decided to slice about what we did in the hour before arriving to the writing group. I wonder how their hours unfolded.