the ocean

My firm has announced that they want us all to be back in the office 50% of the time by September. This is pleasing to me, for while I am loath to give up the simple pleasure of working from my bed when the mood strikes, I also don't want to end up in the hospital with severe muscle wasting. As much as I appreciate the efficiency that comes without distractions from co-workers, I also easily see now how isolation turns people into unkempt, manifesto-drafting weirdos. And it will be good to get away from my kitchen every once in a while, so as to not eat its entire contents. My deepening obsession with the many cheeses of the world simply can't be good for anyone.

So yeah, I think 50% is a good compromise that preserves the convenience of working at home when, say, your Orkin man is coming or there's a six-year-old episode of Chicago Fire you really want to see, while reinforcing the idea that we live in a society, which requires occasional acts of social politeness and personal grooming. But I am not sure that my co-workers are all that anxious to get back to the office, even part time, if recent history is any indication. The firm set up a series of lunches to bribe us to come back to the office; the first was attended by four people and the second by just me and the office manager. And while that conversation was undoubtedly one for the ages, it's probably not exactly what the powers that be had in mind.

I get it: it's summer and people want to lie in the sun with their Sue Grafton, not look at spreadsheets on dual monitors. But when the temperatures have cooled and people are transitioning to regret over the chunky highlights their hairstylists talked them into, I'll be waiting for them at the office, exactly 50% of the time.

Not as exotic as Portugal, perhaps, but we went to Indianapolis this weekend to visit my friend Jeanne. Well, to be completely accurate, we went to Carmel, Indiana, and never left my friend's house the entire time. It turns out we had a lot to catch up on, for instance:

-- The August 2002 "KFC-throwing incident" and subsequent breakup of 3LW.

-- The 3LW/Cheetah Girls overlap and rumors of bullying by/towards Raven Symone.

-- Raven Symone's Instragram Live with former 3LW members where she made and ate a sandwich.

-- Raven Symone's song "Raven's Pie" from her sitcom "Raven's Home."

-- Raven Symone's recent weight loss.

-- Whether it is a good idea to fast for three days straight but "drink a lot of water."

-- Weight loss solutions generally.

-- That Nutrisystem commercial where Marie Osmond acts really passive aggressive towards other people who has lost weight via Zoom.

-- That Paragard commercial where the woman sings and dances about her birth control.

-- The fact that when you google the Paragard commercial you also get a link to a website about suing Paragard.

-- The way the media covered Amanda Bynes' legal troubles (not related to Paragard) back when she allegedly "cabbed it" from New York to LA and tried to set someone's driveway on fire.

-- Whether it's now socially unacceptable to just not care that much about Britney Spears.

-- The fact that we always kind of thought Justin Timberlake was a secret shit.

-- How we went through a period when we really liked "Rock Your Body," though.

-- Whether we like Dua Lipa or not.

And so on and so forth. It was an epic weekend! 

Did I mention that we are going to Portugal this fall? My friend is getting married there and even though, pre-pandemic, taking a week away from work for such an event seemed like an impossible extravagance, after a year of house arrest it feels just fine and dandy. We don't have our flight reservations yet, because those cost about as much as many minor surgeries right now, but we have watched not one but two YouTube videos about the country, so I feel like we're in pretty good shape. Did you know that they have lots of blue tile there? And that they make Port? I'm so damned cultured it's scary, am I right?

The actual wedding will be in Portuguese wine country, which I imagine to be green, leafy, and full of Diane Lane type characters. The nearest major city is Porto, where there is a giant bridge that looks quite dramatic in people's selfies and a special sandwich covered in gooey cheese that may well become my cause of death. We are also planning to visit Lisbon, which is not really near any of our other destinations, but seems necessary if only for the maritime explorer fan fiction. It shall be a gala affair, assuming that we ever actually get around to booking flights and hotels. Otherwise, it shall be a disappointing trip to O'Hare and back.