Limited Perspective

I'm teleworking. But my job has always involved having phone conversations with strangers, basically. And we all know that the first thing you say on the phone is some version of "how are you." I have been saying the obligatory "fine" or "great" or whatever we usually say. But then I say something like, "Well, I'm doing terrible actually." And that puts us both at ease, or as much at ease as you can be. There is a bonding. I think it's important to share and acknowledge that this is bad, and it hurts, and it's frightening, if that's how you are really feeling. We like the positive talk, and the hope, and we all want to be strong for each other. I think that usually wins out over the vulnerability.

At the beginning of the month, I took an old Timex watch to Fred Meyer jewelers in Bothell. It needed a battery. The clerk said since it was waterproof, they needed to send it out, it might take a couple of weeks and they would call me when it was ready. On the 16th, they called and said it was ready to pick up any time. I thanked them and said I was working from home, not in Bothell anymore, but I did want to come by. Three days later, they called again to say they had r educed hours but I could still come in. I told them I had in fact gone the previous night and while the grocery was still open, the jewelry part was gated shut. They promised to hold on to it. Today, March 24, they called a third time and said the store would be closed indefinitely but my watch was safe and would be there when they reopened. Each time, it was as if in the face of everything, they wanted to do the best job they could and pack every bit of care and concern into this tiny, insignificant inter