Status quo is a Latin phrase. It translates directly to the state in which, referring to the present state of affairs. In politics, arguments are mounted to preserve the status quo when facing a large and possibly radical change. You can’t just decide against the status quo. You’ve got to take some sort of action if you’re going to make a change.
I have a talk with myself.
“It’s not going to change on its own,” I say, scrounging around in the refrigerator. It’s not promising. Just some fruit. Sandy buys fruit. How boring. I bite into an apple. Our kitchen is a cheerful place. On the refrigerator, my magnets from every stopover airport – Dallas, Chicago, Atlanta – hold up her sketches. Peacock feathers poke from a large, gaudy vase: our kitchen-table centerpiece. Sun, laughter, and a trickle of hip-hop music stream in through the open window.
It’s college life.
“It’s not like you haven’t learned to deal with it,” says that other side of me, the fearful one. She’s holding one of Sandy’s skeins of yarn, finger-crotcheting. Each time she drops a stitch, she pulls out everything she’s done and starts over.
“Deal with it, sure,” I say. I’m juggling the half-eaten apple, tossing it from one hand to the other. “Is that all there is? Is that the best I can ask for?”
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