The din of voicers being me is comforting. It reminds me of the mornings at the Factory in Franklin, answering e-mails, making client calls, or reviewing and revising client documents. It sounds . . . normal, and that's where I want to be.
I'm going to take a Covid-19 test later today. If it's negative, I'll return to the office tomorrow, at least for part of the day. I would love to help coach at Joe's basketball practice this evening, too. Secretly, even if I test positive, I'm considering going for a three mile run this afternoon.
Knowing me all too well, my sister, Tracy, discouraged me from trying to run two or three days ago. She remembered, correctly, that in my younger days I often ran when I was sick in an effort to flush a lingering illness out of my system. I did think, then - and maybe still do, now - that a couple of difficult runs with coughing, spitting, and struggling helped my body return to normal sooner after a sinus infection or cold.
Covid-19 is probably a different deal, though. What I don't want is a setback the knocks me out for a few more days. Perhaps I'll try to walk a couple of miles rather than running.
As I've begun to feel better the last few days, I've appreciated the down time at home. I plowed through Ann Patchett's book of essays, "These Precious Days," which was exquisitely written. I'm a few minutes from finishing David Sedaris's collection of essays, "The Best of Me," which I've devoured the past few days. Such a unique voice.
Ann Patchett and David Sedaris are similar, yet different in their descriptions of their lives and their family's lives. Brutally honest, both of them. It's easy to see why both of them are members of the American Academy of Arts and Letters.
I binged the last season - number seven - of "Bosch" on Amazon Prime, which I'd been meaning to get to but hadn't set aside the time. Enjoyable, as always.
I also rewatched "Stripes" (1981), with Bill Murray and Harold Ramis, beginning at 2 a.m. on day 2 or 3, and finishing it when I woke up the next morning. Why? No idea, other than the fact that Bill Simmons had done a Rewatchables podcast about it a few months ago and it piqued my interest. Would I have gotten around to it if I hadn't been sick and isolating? Nope.
Last night, I finished the third and final season of "After Life," the series written and directed by Ricky Gervais. I binged it, too, watching 18 episodes in four days. It was tremendous, resonating with me on several levels.
Certainly, I'm no more of a television critic than and I a wine connoisseur. But, as with wine, I know what I like, or love. And I loved "After Life." Perfectly cast - much like "Catastrophe" from a few years ago with Sharon Horgan and Rob Delaney - well written, smart, funny, and poignant. It was brilliant, or lovely, as the English say.
When all is said and done, I think that's what I'll remember about my Covid-19 trip - the week I spent with Ann Patchett, David Sedaris, and Ricky Gervais. That's not a bad crew to isolate with, if you have to isolate.
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