Day 4 — the COVID19 monologues, Sai Gon, Viet Nam
It’s day 4 now, and it’s been very uneventful; after Chuck’s initial mania on day 2, it seems as though things are pretty calm.
We are still in the last throws of the rainy season, so I haven’t been able to get out on the roof as it has been too wet.
I am failing to take my own advice; I have little purpose. I am a lump, a lump on the sofa, a lump in the bed, a lump, just dragging myself from one place to the other.
Our air conditioning units continue to spew water, so we have devised a complex system of turning things on and off, for specific amounts of time, opening windows and doors to encourage a natural through-breeze, using the ceiling fan to help circulate the humidity, because that’s all it is really humidity. It is hot and soggy but bearable.
Little has changed; the announcement never came, no note in our letterbox to tell us about our rations.
I am propagating vegetables from the seeds of tomatoes and peppers, but it will be months before they are ready; we can sustain ourselves on my kale, basil, and some chilies; I have lots of pickled veggies in the fridge; sauerkraut, then the obligatory rice and noodles. I mean, that’s plenty of stuff to keep us going; I was romanticizing about the rations; we don’t really need them. Still, it is odd we have had no communication.
I still maintain we are the forgotten street in the parallel universe.
Maybe that’s what is causing it, insomnia; perhaps the protective forcefield is so strong it’s impacting my sleep. There has been so little of it (sleep). Short bursts, an hour here, two hours there, never at the right time, never at bedtime. Each day passes so fast, but nighttime is eternal; first, the pip pop of the badminton in the street. The dripping from the AC into the bucket positioned below, and I try to meditate as I do every night. Still, now, my brain won’t be silenced; it is full of clutter, and I know that soon the cats will be telling us it’s 4 am and time to get up, so I do, in the hope, this will make me tired enough for the next night, but until now, nothing.
That’s all I am thinking about really, how lovely it would be to have a full night of sleep, all the way through, from bedtime to the morning — you know, one of those deep sleeps where you wake up feeling refreshed, energized so that I can accomplish things.
But for now, I shall continue being a lump with little purpose or energy.