Today’s
project? I intend to clean the grout around every floor tile in our house. Why?
I need to gain control over something that’s specific and concrete. I need to
sit on the hard, cold surface and attack it with Bar Keeper’s Friend. I want to
mercilessly scrub with my special brush until every inch looks clean and new. I
require a massive project that pulls me away from the cruelty pounding upon our
doors. If I spend the day wrapped in a
task that has a positive ending, my overwhelming hopelessness will stop hemorrhaging.
At
the keyboard right now, I envision my day. Pulling on old clothing, filling my
bucket with nearly scorching water, sprinkling cleanser, scrubbing, scrubbing,
scrubbing until my fingers and knees ache. My attention focused. Honed in onto
something totally under my control, I have the luxury of pushing aside the
horrors of another Project 2025 day until my personal coping strategies kick
in.
At
this very second, uncertainty rides along with me on how I’ll survive four
fucking years when one week pulls me down and under.
Copyright 2025 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman
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