Black Friday

 (Note: This is a separate post because it's focused - I didn't want to tack it on to the end of the previous one. This needs its own page).

In 2005, I was a first-year teacher. Hurricane Katrina destroyed parts of New Orleans, and Hurricane Rita was barreling into the Gulf, heading straight for Houston. Houstonians freaked out, for Katrina was just a month prior. The majority of the city fled. To this day, ask anyone who left for higher ground, and they'll reply: "Yup. Dallas. 24 hours."  To someone who didn't experience it, that answer might seem odd. What it means is that yes, they evacuated. They went to Dallas and it took them 24 hours. Here's the thing: Dallas is 4 hours away.  So many people evacuated Houston that it was a grade-A cluster fuck. 

I stayed behind. I lived in Baton Rouge and went to New Orleans enough to realize that the majority of the damage was from the levy breaking - and Houston didn't have levies. In fact, we were more inland than N.O. Plus, the early evacuation stories were crazy, so I stayed behind with my mom. 

Hurricane Rita never came. At the last minute, it turned east and slammed into Beaumont.

The day everyone realized Rita wouldn't come, I drove around Houston. I was in downtown at noon on a weekday, and no one was on the streets. No cars drove by, no pedestrians scurried to and fro the tall buildings. Nothing. It was like a (cleaner) scene from "28 Days Later."

Today is Black Friday, 2020. Black Friday in the pandemic. Black Friday after a Thanksgiving in which travel was frowned upon (yet it happened) and large family dinners were discouraged (this, for the most part, I think happened). Earlier this week, I texted my hairdresser for an appointment. She replied, "Sure - how about Friday at 11?" I replied, "Sounds great!" Inwardly, I groaned. Ugh. Driving into the city, into Rice Village on Black Friday? Blech. Traffic. Crazy shoppers. No parking. I wasn't looking forward to it.  I used to be one of those crazy get-up-at-4am-to-go-Black-Friday-shopping-at-5am-and-then-be-home-by-8am-and-go-back-to-bed kind of person. I loved the thrill of the hunt, the bargains, the freebies given to the first 50 shoppers. By the time I was 33, I was pretty much over it. Online shopping became a thing, and I preferred to have lesser bargains but more quality time at home. I hated economics in school, but one thing I always remember is the concept of "opportunity cost" (which is the benefit given up by taking an alternate route). I don't teach summer school, for example, because the money isn't worth having a stress-free summer.  Although NOT teaching yield no money, it yields relaxation and the chance to focus on my skills and crafts.  And so the discounts I gave up were worth less than the time saved and relaxation of not fighting the crowds.

This morning, I woke up, at a breakfast of Thanksgiving leftovers, and set out early. I figured that there would be lots of traffic (and a stormy day didn't add benefits to the drive time), and if I could get to Rice Village by 10:30, then I'd have plenty of time to find a parking spot and even grab some coffee.  So I left my house at 8, got a quick oil change, and headed up 45. 

I-45 northbound was empty.  I mean, absolutely empty. On a normal weekday, I'd be in my car for 30-45 minutes for the 20 miles. On a weekend day, maybe 25-30. This was Friday - Black Friday - and yet I was at the Kirby exit of 59 by 9:45. I decided to do the unthinkable - see how crowded the Galleria was. Side note: Tiffany's has a pair of earrings I've been drooling over for months, but I didn't want to order earrings and have them get lost or stolen off the porch. The only Tiffany's is in the Galleria, so at some point I'd have to go to the Galleria if I wanted them.  So today, I made a decision: If it was meant that I'd have those earrings, then the Galleria would be empty on a Black Friday. I doubted that would happen, but I figured I'd see.

I exited Wesleyan. No traffic. I turned left onto Richmond. No traffic. This is strange. I turned right on Post Oak. No cars. This is insane. I've been to the Galleria on Black Friday before, and the entire area is normally a hot mess. I pulled into my favorite parking garage with ease, and found a spot. Is this the Twilight Zone? I walked into the Galleria at 9:55. It was a ghost town. It instantly reminded me of that day in 2005 when I drove to an empty downtown. This is not normal. Not normal at all. I went into Tiffany's and bought the earrings (because I have NEVER seen the Galleria that empty, even on a normal day). 

I then drove to Rice Village. Again, empty. I found a parking spot immediately in front of the hair salon.

Kitty, my hair stylist, said that Rice Village has been empty. In fact, local business are hurting - and the salon itself was looking shockingly empty until recently.

I know we're in the middle of a pandemic. I know people are staying home more, and they're shopping online more. I know television shows are changing and showing the masks and living in a COVID life, but there's something about the emptiness of the Galleria and Rice Village that shook me. So many small businesses and locally owned restaurants have shuttered their doors forever. This pandemic is costing not only literal human lives, but livelihood.  And many of us are torn - do we stay home, stay safe?  Or do we go out and support businesses when we can?

I wished I dropped in to my favorite fountain pen store, which was just 2 blocks from the hair stylist.  Maybe I'll drop by tomorrow. I'd hate for them to close. 

So Black Friday during a pandemic was an experience. I hope next year, things are back to normal and I can enjoy Black Friday from my computer as I sip coffee.  I hope shuttered businesses come back somehow, and that other businesses near shuttering get the boost they need to survive this month.

And I hope to never see a ghost town in Houston again. 

Months Gone By

 I stopped blogging because an end was nowhere near.  For the past 7 months, life has changed drastically for some, none for others.  Me?  In the middle.

We stayed out of school for the rest of the year. My seniors didn't get a prom, they didn't get special exemptions from their last finals (because no one took finals), but we did have a graduation.  All the while we heard numbers were going up, but only a few of the people I know had it. But we stayed indoors. We stayed away from restaurants, concerts cancelled, Broadway closed. Those tickets to Hamilton on my birthday?  Poof. 

The virus continued. It killed people - we're up to 250,000 deaths in the US alone. Those early numbers... I laugh at them now. They seemed so small. We're back in school, and the numbers we've had in schools dwarf those initial numbers, those initial numbers that scared us.

On the plus side, a vaccine seems to be coming. Doctors are understanding this difficult virus more (although there are so many questions). I appear to be a high-risk, as I'm obese, asthmatic, and I have chronic inflammation already (gastritis). But I'm taking precautions. I wear my mask and avoid non-mask wearing (because there are people who are actually politicizing this virus, which is just mind-boggling), I don't go out in large numbers, and I test my pulse ox daily (since now doctors are saying that the pulse ox can drop without anyone knowing, a "happy hypoxia" issue).  If I can just hold out until the vaccine becomes available, I'll consider myself a lucky one. 

In the meantime, not only have I been at my house a LOT, but...

(1) My anxiety is through the roof at times

(2) We somehow got freakin' BED BUGS - discovered at the end of May because those suckers are good at hiding (note: they're gone. We paid a small fortune to bake our house to 150 degrees to kill them, and we've been bed bug free for 6 months now).

(3) I got pretty sick.  I thought it was COVID, but nope. After 5 months of changing my eating habits due to necessity (and losing 20 lbs!) doctors, labs, and various procedures (I got my first colonoscopy and endoscopy - and wow, was THAT an experience), I have been determined to have biliary dyskinesia (which means my gall bladder doesn't work well - it's only performing at 25%), gastritis, and possible kidney issues (I have to go back to my primary care doc to figure this one out).  The pros are that I've lost 20 lbs, I have majorly changed my eating habits (no more fried foods for me!), and I've hit my deductible within the first 3 months of my insurance year.  The cons? I've spent enough money to hit my deductible within 3 months, and my gall bladder may have to come out. I'm hoping I can last until Spring Break or the summer so that I don't have to take any time off.

(4) In going back to work, I realized how much of a kinesthetic teacher I am. I am not walking around as much these days in order to social distance. My desks are in rows - which completely bothers me because I can't get around much - and teaching with a mask is incredibly difficult. I have to project more, which dries out my throat, and the kids can't see my facial expressions. And I can't see them.  Sometimes I feel like an utter failure, but I realize we're all - my students included - doing the best we can. I hope my 9th graders will later be in my senior class. Maybe then I'll get to know what they look like without the masks.

The pandemic is not without its silver lining.  I am extremely grateful that I haven't gotten sick, and I wish our death count wasn't so high. That said, the silver lining is that I'm staying home more - which means saving money. I've paid off 2 of my student loans early and I'm on track to pay off another 3 by May (1-2 years early). I've also cooked and baked more.

 So... that's it in a nutshell.

I've written goals with my students - reading and writing. One of my writing goals is to blog once a week.  I've clearly been failing on that one, but finding the concentration to write is challenging. However, if I expect my students to write and reach their goals, then I'd be a hypocrite if I don't do the same.

So... 

Once a week it is.