raw philtrums

a band that never goes anywhere

I’ve had pinkeye twice in 30 days, if you want to know how things are going. Through it all, I’ve had to audition and be on camera, so at one point I had in my possession three different mascaras, which I think we can all agree is an egregious misuse of both inflation-era funds and anthropogenic material. The mascara I had to throw away because I wore it the day before I realized I had pinkeye, the new mascara I would wear for the duration of my pinkeye treatment, and the new NEW mascara for when the pinkeye was assuredly gone and I could again, in good hygiene, swathe my eyelashes in delicately-combed sludge.

But then yesterday, after being waylaid all week by the SECOND snot storm cold of the month, I woke with goop in my eyes yet again, my left eye an irritated pastel hue. A mom in Zoe’s school had texted to cancel our weekend plans the day prior because they all had the flu and she had pinkeye. The next morning, after washing the goop out of my eye with freezing water, I mock-rage-texted her.

“Maybe next time you text someone about your pinkeye, you consider how contagious it is!!!!!!!!!!!” I typed, the letters blurry. “(I woke up with it AGAIN.)”

“Noooooooo,” she replied.

Zoe’s philtrum is raw, having not had a single day’s break from the aggressive monotony of wiping and blowing for the last 55 days. On Wednesday, her preschool sent out an email alerting us that they would be SHUTTING DOWN and not opening again until next week. Three teachers have COVID, two others are hospitalized with the flu! My friend whose daughter was hospitalized for RSV last week said the doctors are calling what we are now experiencing a “Tripledemic,” which would be a cool rap name if it weren’t so fuuuuucking depressing. RSV, Flu, COVID. We’ve somehow managed to evade all three (!) but we’re perennially stuck in a never-never-land of their symptoms.

After Rowan had an incomprehensible E N T I R E W E E K (???!!) off of school for Thanksgiving, now Zoe will be home with me for a week, forced to watch more episodes of Octonauts while I have my Zoom meetings and do my auditions, and my writing will, of course, go by the wayside. (Tyler’s career, however, will remain untouched!!!!!!!!! #patriarchy)

“The artist in me wanted to disdain the material world, while the woman couldn’t: In my fantasy of the orderly writer’s room I would have to serve myself, be my own devoted housewife. It would require two identities, two consciousnesses, two sets of minutes and hours.” - Rachel Cusk, Notes on Domesticity

It’s really rather incredible, how many years this endless march of ill health stretches on, how many years parents have had to put their work and motivations on hold because there’s no system to buttress the crumbling joke of an already tenuous system of care flimsily floating just beneath.

Our Thanksgiving was canceled: we were going to host, but our guests got Covid, and our other guests got the flu. The day before, Zoe was sent home from school with a 102 degree fever, which continued all weekend. There’s no upside to any of this, just dismay that we’re all still forced to isolate from one another with constant, nagging bouts of sickness, and in my favorite season of togetherness, too. I’m tired of being isolated. I’ve had a standing date to watch Real Housewives of Salt Lake City with a friend but every single Wednesday since the new season premiered on September 28th, one of us or a member of our family has been contagious-ill. Two months!!!!!!!!!! What a joke.

I’m tired of not operating at my lifelong reliable capacity. I have always had an intense amount of energy, more than my average peer, it seemed, and the last several months, I just…don’t anymore. I’m worried it’s gone forever. Is this what it’s like to round the bend to 40? Constant fatigue? Or is this just another wintry pandemic season, chockablock with weakening, deceitful germs?

Here is the best essay I read this week, by Allie Rowbottom. Highly recommend delving into it, it floored me.

Hoping that you’re reading this in a healthier season than we’ve got happening. Bashful apologies for this being such a QUERULOUS missive - it’s assuredly not the vibe you subscribed to! In HAPPIER news, I’m excited to introduce a new series for this newsletter wherein I interview creators on how they managed their creations. After I inhale an artform, I often (everytime) wonder: Okay, but how did they do that? Now, I’ll get to ask them, right here! And you can read about it along with me!!!!! I’m very excited about it, but brb, because I’ve gotta blow my nose again.