Wednesday, November 18th, 2020

Early in the day, a coworker and I try to decode some cryptic handwritten notes for a PowerPoint presentation. We eventually have to ask the person who wrote them. We can tell from the alphabet that they’re probably in English. What we read as “INGRID” means that the image below it should be in red. “FB LATKE” means “isolate.” We cram to get the project done by the 4 PM deadline. By midday we learn that the matter is moot. Due to a constellation of issues, the invitations for the online event never went out. We’ll try it again for tomorrow. I spend much of the day trying to integrate images from screenshots and videos made on several different quirky systems. I try to work through things methodically. Others bounce around within the project, going off on new tangents before reaching the end of anything. By the end of the day, I’m exhausted. I get a falafel and a donut at the Heart of the City and eat them at a table in the square. The weather is perfect. Three little boys run after one another not far from me. One trips and keels over. His palms hit the pavement. He flips upside down, walks on his hands for a few steps, then kicks his legs into the air and lands back on his feet. A large white dog blocks my exit from the square. It’s friendly, as is the human with it. I drop my hands. It sniffs them. I pass the test. It lets me go home.