One-hundred ninety-seven days since I last took up a seat here at King Coffee and sat in public while in Phoenix. Sure, we recently ventured out of the city, but our locations were chosen for the lack of population density to minimize coming into contact with others. It was strange as my first hour being back was spent among many a familiar face curious as to how I’d been. After socializing more than I have in six months, I’m here at my computer drawing a blank as though talking with others drained my head.

Where is my focus? Maybe it’s lost in the background music I’m no longer accustomed to listening to. Is it the people-watching that I’ve grown rusty with? When I go to the store, I don’t really want to see anyone, and what I do look for are people without masks so I can move out of their way. I’d like to consider blaming this brain funk on that I’m wondering about what I might have for lunch, but that’s not really it either.

Then there’s the question of why I am out here anyway. Well, on Tuesday Caroline visited her office and enjoyed her time interacting with the boss so much that she decided that she’d start going in on a regular basis on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I wasn’t ready to go back to an empty home as I knew that routine, and at a point, I felt too isolated. That really drives home how difficult these past six months must have been for so many people who are alone.

With only 265 words written in the nearly four hours I’ve been sitting here because, of course, other conversations took place, I’m now seriously hungry and will have to accept that something insightful or even interesting is not going to flow out of me. Look at today’s photo, and you might recognize the recursive nature of what I put together; in some way, it’s a reflection of my mind falling back into itself in wondering, just what the heck did I think I’d accomplish here?