The Coronacation Diaries, Episode 63

The One Where Ross and Rachel Take a Break

It's episode 63, friends. 63 days of so much togetherness. 63 days of pause and repeat.

Talking with a friend today, we were pondering whether we'd fall right back into our hectic lives once all this is over, or if we would shift slightly, a tangent path to the one we were on. It's impossible to know what we will keep and what we will lose, just as it's impossible right now to quantify our current gains and losses. I hope that we will have learned something, but I also know inherently how...human we all are.

In episode 63, Ross was upset because Rachel was working all the time. She never had time for him. And Rachel was pissed because she was just trying to get shit done, and Ross was in her space. Spoiler from the 90's: that episode --and that season-- didn't end well for either one of them.

Even in quarantine, I am working constantly. It's Sunday. The day of rest or some such archaic silliness. Today, I graded papers for several hours, built a presentation for a webinar I am leading this week with a CRWP colleague, built a website for a side hustle, fell over several times whilst attempting yoga [side-eye at you, half moon pose], and researched State of Michigan tax code, how to become an LLC, and how to file a dog's nails. I always take on more than I should, and am always striving for more, much to the detriment of my house-cleaning regimen and personal relationships.

Although I never really liked Rachel --and definitely never understood why she was "America's Sweetheart," I totally get why she was so damn frustrated with Ross. It's hard to stop moving, to lean into the conversations, to truly engage when I am doing eleventy-three things at once and have fourteen more on my mind. And, much like Ross, my family only wants to have a conversation when I am in the middle of writing something, the middle of a project, the middle of researching something technical, the middle of concentration. Seriously, kid. Pour your own Cheerios.

I don't want to take a forever break from my people, no matter how many times they interrupt my train of thought and I sigh in exasperation. They are my people and I plan to hold on to them tightly for as long as they will let me. But I'd like to take a break from this house, from the rain, from the hissing cats, from the helpless phone calls, from the uninformed ridiculousness online, from the mediocrity of student work, from the constant barrage of emails, from seventeen interruptions every time I start to accomplish something, from the mundane day-to-day of 63 days of pause and repeat.

I'd like to take a break, for just an episode or two.