Sunday, March 28

Day Fourteen...also known as Last Full Day in Quarantine.

I woke up early and excited. Last full day! We leave tomorrow!

I like my first look outside, before the sun comes up. No people, no street dogs, just a few cars whirring past.

I meditated, showered, had my ginger tea, worked on the previous day's blog. I do like my little morning routine here.

I got the European Breakfast:

Yes, it's a ridiculous amount of food, but this time the choice was strategic—I don't know if they're going to feed us tomorrow before we leave and I don't want to have to go through the process of checking out, getting to our airbnb, checking in, etc, on an empty stomach.

So, I made myself a breakfast of cantaloupe, toast, an egg (!), bacon, roasted potatoes, and tea.

Doesn't that look a little more manageable?

That left the cornflakes, milk, croissant, ham, and sausage (hot dog) for tomorrow, in case we need it. I threw away the baked beans.

I am kind of amazed we've gotten to the end of quarantine. At some point in there, it felt like we'd live in these rooms forever.

I do think the routine has helped me. I mean, one hand, I think the Taskmaster in me is often overzealous (Sixty minutes of yoga does not mean fifty-nine!) but I also think having certain things to do broke up the days. I always meditated, posted a blog, and did yoga by lunch time, and that gave me some feeling of accomplishment. By the time second yoga and second meditation were done, in late afternoon, I felt like my work for the day was done. I saved my TV shows for after dinner, when I had my evening tea, and that always felt like a special treat. And I read a lot of books, which I don't always make time for.

Maybe this little mouse-in-a-cage needs certain pointless tasks to keep from going crazy, but I think they helped. And more often that not, I managed to approach those tasks with presence, and didn't just treat them as another thing to cross off the list. Like, 80% of the time, at least.

At 9:40am I took the elevator down to Floor 1 to meet Roman in the garden. What does this taking an elevator thing look like, you ask? Oh hey, I have a photo montage from the past few days!

Can you tell I was afraid of running out of photos for the blog? Anyway, there were Big Happenings during Outside Time!

Remember the bird I couldn't identify that was in the garden yesterday? We saw another one today—and Roman said, It's one of those birds you like. When I got closer it flew away, and I realized from the flash of white spots that he was right—it was a Myna. I hadn't really known what they looked like up close—much more brown than black.

We also saw that sweet little non-disgusting rat from yesterday, wandering at the base of the altar (does it help if I make it seem like a specific rat? And if I don't use words like scurry?).

I'm sorry, guys, but this is my job now.

Also, Roman had shaved and put on clothes other than loungewear and was looking fresh as anything.

Back in my room, I did the same wrist-free yoga routine that I did nearly every day in St. George, when my wrists were acting up. I thought it would be interesting to revisit, and assumed it would feel very familiar. But oddly, it didn't. Something about being in a hotel room 12 stories above the ground, on hard linoleum imitation wood floors, and not in a house in the desert, in a sewing room with soft carpet, made the whole class feel totally different in my mind and in my body.

Lunch was roasted pork with rice.

After lunch I meditated, finished reading The Queen's Gambit (so good!), and then went down to meet Roman in the Swimming Pool Area.

It was as hot as yesterday, but less breezy, and we didn't last the full allotted hour.

Things did get awfully sparkly, though

On the way back to the elevator we saw, through the glass, two dogs snoozing under neighboring cars, and Roman snapped some pics.

Doesn't it weirdly look like we reproduced the exact same image of a sleeping dog, and photoshopped it in slightly different positions under two cars? We didn't, though. Those are two different dogs.

Back in my room, I wrote a little, did yoga, and started to pack my bags. It made me a little anxious (why did I pack so many goddamn clothes?) but was nonetheless a fairy quick and easy job.

For dinner, I had my favorite—pad thai—for the last time.

I felt just a little wistful as I surveyed my things, all packed up. Some tiny part of me will miss room 2-1214. I consider that a great success, actually—it means I did not totally hate this quarantine or my time in it. And I think that is not a bad note to go out on.