I think that at one time or another, most people have indulged the daydream of imagining what a perfect day would be like. I don’t necessarily mean a day filled with lottery wins or wildest dreams coming true, or magically being able to correct mistakes and erase regrets. I think of a day when everything would go as well as it possibly could.
A few months ago, I would have had a dramatically different idea of what a perfect day would be like. The day of the week wouldn’t have mattered, but it would have started with me getting a text from my agent soon after waking, asking when we could talk later that day since an offer had come through on the manuscript we have on submission. I wouldn’t be able to tell anyone about it, but carrying that secret all day would color everything else that happened in the best possible way. The day would be full of good meals, with me probably seeing a movie I’d been looking forward to for a long time, lots of laughter, and good songs on every station on the radio when I was driving. I’m sure there would be details beyond that if I was able to specifically plan out a perfect day, but that’s the basic outline.
Not anymore, though.
The pandemic has become a driving force of everyday life here in my state, and consequently a lot of our priorities have changed. Because I understand and respect the risks involved with Covid-19, I have been taking the idea of shelter-in-place very seriously. This means that, since the last day of school before this seemingly eternal spring break began two months ago, I have probably spent 98% of this time, literally, inside my house with no one but my dog. In all this time, I have not had a live, in-person face to face conversation with anyone that lasted more than three minutes, and mostly with people living in my neighborhood I only kind of know, if they happen to be outside while my dog and are out for a walk. The only way I can keep in touch with the people important to me is through some virtual electronic medium. The same students I couldn’t pay to stay quiet in the classroom stare blankly into their cameras during our video conferences, without questions to ask or anything to say. If I have to leave the house to pick up something essential, or if I have something delivered, I don’t feel completely secure about even that superficial level of interaction with the outside world until I’ve wiped down any exposed surfaces, washed my hands to a level that would make them acceptable for performing surgery, and, if necessary, even changed clothes. Am I taking all of this a little far? Probably. But I’m also not infected. So far. That I know of.
Because of all this, my vision of a perfect day has changed. Now, I feel a perfect day would be 24 hours spent basking in the former normalcy that we all had probably taken for granted in some way, and may not see again in the same way for years. I think my perfect day would go a little something like this:
5:45 AM - It’s a Friday. I’d wake up just a little before my alarm, feeling fully rested. I’d turn on the morning news. My dog would hop up in the bed and say good morning by straddling my chest and throat, snorting in my face, and wagging his tail so enthusiastically it actually creates a small breeze. (This describes the first 10 minutes of practically every day anyway.) After a walk, breakfast, finishing the Sudoku in the paper, and a shower, I’d be ready to go to school. Because yes, going to school would now be a part of my perfect day.
8:00 - I’d arrive at school early enough to get a decent parking space. There wouldn't be any meetings in the morning. All of my materials for the day are ready to go because I had enough time the night before to prepare them. As people arrive and enter the building through the door near my classroom, they’d all say a quick good morning to me as they walked past my door, and the ones I’m closer with would stop to talk for a few minutes before they went to start their days.
9:15 - The first bell would ring, signaling what will be a successful day at school. The kids will be engaged and productive. We’ll all be in good moods, contributing to a happy and comfortably classroom environment. Everyone will be getting along so well that no one will drag any toxic drama back to the classroom after recess or lunch, and the day ends successfully. I’m happy about having another good day with a class I really enjoy. (This is true about this year, at least as far as I how I enjoyed them back when we were spending our days together.)
4:00 - The day ends well and the kids go home. I don’t have much school work to do over the weekend, and the little that I have is already pretty much packed and ready. I’m not feeling any rush to leave, so I allow myself to get pulled into three or four of the conversation pockets that always pop up in the hallway after school. This ends up taking close to an hour, if not longer. It’s wonderful to see these people right in front of me, and hear their voices in person instead of over the internet, and to just be present in the moment with so many of them. I had a good day with my students, and I get to end it with some quality time with my friends and colleagues.
4:45 - I finally leave. I stop at Target on the way home, and enjoy walking through the aisles in no particular rush, unconcerned with the number of people in the store, whether or not they’re six feet away from me, or if they’re wearing masks. None of that is necessary anymore. I pick up the things I need and even a few I don’t. I run into a person or two from school while there, and get into more end-of-the-day depressurizing conversations. I’m feeling happy and relaxed.
5:15 - I’m home, a little later than my dog would prefer, but he’s very happy to see me and to take a walk through the neighborhood during a comfortable and sunny evening before he has his supper.
6:00 - I’m at my sister’s for dinner. For whatever reason, her whole family is there, along with our parents and even a few local cousins. My brother-in-law is outside grilling. Dinner is good, and we have a good time talking and eating and joking around. After dinner people spread around, some in the living room, some on the porch, some outside on the deck, because it’s still a comfortably warm evening. We spend the rest of the evening just being with each other until the sky begins darkening and it’s time for everyone to return home.
9:00 - After getting home and taking the dog out for one last walk, the two of us spend a little time sitting in our patio chairs to enjoy the cooling evening until the bugs come out. After that, it’s back inside for a little TV or reading until I grow peacefully tired and know it’s time for bed.
It strikes me that my idea of a perfect day now isn’t so different from what a fairly normal day would have been like before. I hope the time comes when I can have another day like that.
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