The amount of banana bread on my counter directly correlates to how angry I am.

Nothing soothes anger more than putting a couple of overly-ripe bananas in a bowl and mashing the crap out of them. I prefer to use a star shaped silicone meat tenderizer (usually used to evenly cook ground beef). You can hold it like a mighty sword — two-handed grip with the blade pointed down, ready to strike — and make those poor bananas pay for all the hurt they’ve caused, which I suppose is better than taking my anger out on another, undeserving, human being.

I was not prepared for how angry this safer-at-home time would make me. I’m angry that I have to work from home. I’m angry that my best friend had to cancel her wedding. I’m angry that I don’t get to see my work study students graduate. I’m angry at all the people who keep complaining they’re bored. The politicians. The protesters. I’m angry at lost time and the world in general.

I never thought I would ever live through a time like this. I thought the Trump administration was the worst thing I was going to have to tell my future grand kids (or more likely my nieces and nephews) about. Even in the middle of the fear and chaos of 9/11, at least we could see our enemy. And let’s be honest, war is something we know how to face and are fully prepared for.

If nothing else, I hope I personally, and society as whole, can learn from this pandemic and use our anger to make sure we are never this unprepared again.

And now to take the latest loaf of banana bread out of the oven.

I take a daily walk through the park behind my apartment. It has a lovely walking path with a beautiful view of the marsh. It only takes 15 minutes to make the full circle which is perfect for a quick break in the middle of my day.

On one such walk, I looked toward the tables that line the outside of the park shelter and noticed an object sitting there. I never would have thought I would find a pair of black high-heeled shoes precisely placed in the middle of the table. Some dirt showed they may have been there overnight but otherwise they were just sitting there, waiting for their owners to realize they had been left behind.

I think many of us feel like this pair of shoes. Forgotten. Left out in the weather. Hoping to be retrieved by someone who obviously valued us at some point in the past. It feels like the world is just passing us by. We are missing the best years of our lives while the world just keeps on spinning underneath us. The next day, the shoes were gone, hopefully picked up by a panicked owner who was so glad to see their shoes were still there, waiting.