For the first two weeks of lockdown I did nothing.
Or, to be more generous to my wounded spirit, I was attempting the tricky Utkatasana-Savasana pose, which translates as “corpse stuck in a chair.”
I broke my torpor when our refrigerator started making a noise like a baseball card flapping in bike spokes. The repair guy, Todd, was the first visitor we’d had in 27 days. We rejoiced: Somebody new to talk to! Todd arrived in full surgical gear, as if we’d scheduled a gallbladder operation instead of fridge repair. He removed a panel in the back of the freezer, which revealed that a vital fan blade had fallen off its rotor. He put the fan blade back on, and told me it would cost $123. I paid happily, because I got my money’s worth in conversation.
“How have you been faring with shelter in place?” I ventured.
“Well, my wife and I have…