One of the nicest things about keeping a bullet journal (beyond the fact that I don’t forget to do things) is that I have a single sentence that sums up every single day since May 2014. I like to flip back and look at what I was doing on the same day a year earlier or figure out how much time passed between two events.

But lately, I’ve been flipping to February and watching life change. It goes from the pandemic being barely mentioned to mentioned frequently to mentioned every day. I can literally see the moment where it flips over from random-event-that-may-or-may-not-ever-reach-us to event-that-is-everywhere-in-the-world.

There is the time before, the old normal, and the time now, the new normal.

There was an article in LitHub about the last train trip the author took before travel stopped. She meant to write an essay about why people should write on trains. Instead, she wrote an essay on grief and fear; two feelings that keep growing for her because there’s nowhere she can go to move away from them from a few moments. They’re always in the home because all of us are always in the home.

She explains, “One of the troubles with writing, now—one the troubles I’m having writing this essay—is that in our forced isolation grief gets in the way, and so does fear. I guess this has been true for me for longer than I’ve realized. Moving fast kept the fear and grief at bay. But now there’s nowhere to go.”

It is so strange to see my journal change from plans and meetings and errands to home, just home, pretty much every day. What was unfathomable in February is happening now. I think if I had to describe the feeling that keeps popping up for me, it’s disbelief. How can things be like this now when they weren’t like this just a month or two ago? Disbelief keeps following me around the home because there’s no place to go and move away from the feeling for a little bit.

That Melissa from two months ago has no clue what is coming down the road.

Not sure what #MicroblogMondays is? Read the inaugural post which explains the idea and how you can participate too.

*******

The Daily Mail has a series of photos with a slider. If you move the slider in one direction, you see how the British town looks during tourist season. If you move the slider in the opposite direction, you see how it looks today, during the pandemic.

Of course, it’s not just the UK. This is the scene everywhere. But the pictures are eerie, and I can’t stop toggling the slider back and forth, watching the people disappear and then pop back up again.

A hotel called us last week and canceled our birdwatching trip. They offered to move the reservation, but we have no clue when to set a new trip. And it’s not as if the birds will stick around and wait for the tourists to return.

*******

Are you also doing #MicroblogMondays? Add your link below. The list will be open until Tuesday morning. Link to the post itself, not your blog URL. (Don’t know what that means? Please read the three rules on this post to understand the difference between a permalink to a post and a blog’s main URL.) Only personal blogs can be added to the list. I will remove any posts that are connected to businesses or are sponsored post.

I have heard multiple people say that they don’t have the patience right now for books. Reading requires focus, and focus is in short supply. So they’re okay with certain types of books or they’re forgoing books for a little bit to watch television, but dense books are a no-go.

I’ve found that I’m the exact opposite.

I cannot stream anything right now. People keep sending me links for Hamilton sing alongs or Indigo Girl concerts or web series. And I cannot get more than 30 seconds in before my skin starts crawling. I have no clue what is causing this reaction, but I can barely hold it together with something highly edited such as a Broadchurch episode. I cannot watch comedians chatting in feel-good videos online.

This is a new thing.

Once upon a time, I would have been jumping from online event to online event. But now, I cannot watch performers performing unless it is in something structured… like a television show or movie or staged play a la National Theater Live. And even then, it is hit-or-miss. Some days I can get through a whole episode. Other days, I start wishing for the end of the show when we’re five minutes in.

The only thing I consistently have patience for right now are books. Books are silent. Books do not ask me to process things quickly. I can handle a book’s pace. They’re not trying to entertain me or make me forget about the world or come together as a community. If online streaming is like a puppy, books are a cat. They are quiet. They are okay if I come and go. They don’t try to get my attention. They just… are.

I need things that just are right now.

I just realized that I’m approaching 800 (really 700 — remember, the misnumbering) Roundups. I started them a week or two into blogging, and I’ve done them every week for the last (almost) 14 years. So… yeah… the math makes sense. I’m just… surprised somehow.

*******

Four years ago, I had an amazing fake chicken sandwich at a nearby vegan restaurant. They change their menu every three months, so I went back and got it three or four more times before it disappeared. I thought they’d bring it back the next year, but every time the menu flipped over, the fake chicken sandwich was nowhere to be seen.

I wrote them emails, left them Facebook comments, and made mention of the fake chicken sandwich whenever I went there for a meal. And they would smile and nod and say, “Sure, sure, we’ll let the chef know that you’re taking your desire for a fake chicken sandwich to an unhealthy mental space.” (Or, “Thanks for the feedback. We’ll let the chef know.” Maybe I just imagined the judgment when I mentioned it for the 47th time.)

Guess what the restaurant brought back this week?

Guess who probably will not be able to get it from said restaurant because we’re not doing carry out right now? (Everyone’s comfort zone is different, and we’ve gotten takeaway Italian ice. But my gut tells me this particular meal isn’t worth the risk.)

The small consolation is they did a different sauce so it won’t be exactly the same. But still.

Four years.

P.S. I am more amused than upset by the timing. It feels like a fitting addition to this time period.

*******

Stop procrastinating. Go make your backups. Don’t have regrets.

Seriously. Stop what you’re doing for a moment. It will take you fifteen minutes, tops. But you will have peace of mind for days and days. It’s the gift to yourself that keeps on giving.

As always, add any new thoughts to the Friday Backup post and peruse new comments in order to find out about methods, plug-ins, and devices that help you quickly back up your data and accounts.

*******

And now the blogs…

But first, second helpings of the posts that appeared in the open comment thread last week. In order to read the description before clicking over, please return to the open thread:

• “Oppressed by Advice… All Over Again” (Gateway Women)
• “Day in the Life – Coronapocalypse Week 3” (Torthúil)
• “No Kidding 2020 Project: Day 10 – Balance” (No Kidding in NZ)

Okay, now my choices this week.

No Kidding in NZ has a post about painful reminders during the pandemic. While people expect Christmas or Mother’s Day to be hard, no one could predict the onslaught of parenting posts popping up due to COVID-19. She writes such important words: “It’s one of the lessons I learned best during infertility and when recovering from it. That it’s okay to be vulnerable. It’s okay to be scared. It’s okay to feel sad.” Yes.

Life Without Baby has a post about mourning (and healing). She writes about Poet Edward Hirsch’s 78-page elegy to his son. She tells us, “He writes that mourning is like carrying a bag of cement up a mountain at night. There is no clear path to follow, but when you look around you, you see everyone carrying their own bags of cement.” Again, she gives excellent advice on the worth of feeling what you are feeling.

Lastly, An Unexpected Family Outing has a post about grieving a loss when people are focused on the pandemic. She writes, “Because right now, the world is in crisis and it feels insensitive to shift my attention away it all. I almost feel petty for wanting to talk about how much I miss my daughter who died. It feels inappropriate for me to grieve anything but the chaos of the world around me.” Except that our lives are more than this moment. And as John Green says, “pain demands to be felt.”

The roundup to the Roundup: I’ve written a lot of Roundups. I am never getting a fake chicken sandwich. Your weekly backup nudge. And lots of great posts to read. So what did you find this week? Please use a permalink to the blog post (written between April 10 – April 17) and not the blog’s main url. Not understanding why I’m asking you what you found this week? Read the original open thread post here.

As I say every month, I’m shamelessly stealing this idea from Jessica Lahey. She has a recurring monthly date where she reviews all the books she read that month. Book reviews are important for authors, and I want to get better about doing this.

So. I’m going to review them here and also online, but I’m going to do it a little differently. I’m only going to review the stuff I really liked. I don’t see a reason to spend my time writing about something I didn’t love; it’s just using up more of my energy. So only positive reviews.

These are the books I liked (or mostly liked) from March.

Crooked Kingdom (Leigh Bardugo): This is the sequel of Six of Crows, which I read—and loved—a few months ago. I think I liked this book even better than the first one, and since I rated that one five stars, I guess this one is off the charts? Hearing the backstories made me see all the events from Six of Crows in a different light, and I was so sad to say goodbye to this story on the last page.

Happiness, a Mystery (Sophie Hannah): This is the book I won last month, and it’s set to be published at the beginning of May. I LOVED this book. Instead of a whodunnit, it’s a howdunnit, treating the search for happiness as a classic mystery. If you’re missing The Good Place, you’ll happily sink into this story (especially if you understand that Chidi has been replaced by a British crime writer). It was so so so good. And I totally want to do the idea that comes towards the end of the book (when you read it, you’ll know what I mean).

The Secret Guests (Benjamin Black): It was a solid read. Not gush-worthy, but I’m definitely glad that I spent time with the story. It’s a fictional account of the princesses—Elizabeth and Margaret—being hidden in Ireland during World War II. So it’s The Crown meets Irish history meets a mystery (sort of). It was interesting to read it just as we started to shelter-in-place because the princesses are sheltering-in-place due to the war. It was nice to spend time with characters in a parallel situation.

The Truants (Kate Weinberg): Another solid read. I kept wanting to pick it up, but I also guessed most of the story early in the book. So reading became an act of confirming rather than being surprised. Still, I’m a sucker for any book set at a school, and a large chunk of this book was set at a college. A worthy, four-star read.

Plus, I re-read The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, which is always enjoyable.

What did you read last month?