Life, Quarantined

Another random jumble of observations…

With the exception of 2 short car drives, I haven’t been out of the house since Friday, March 13. Today was day 7 of working from home. And life is starting to fall into a functional routine among the dysfunction.

I wake up at 7:30am on workdays instead of the usual 5:45am. I’ll log onto my work laptop a little before 8:30am. My home office is in great shape. I bought a little USB switch to plug my mouse and keyboard into. The switch connects to my home desktop and my work laptop. This way, I don’t have to crawl under the desk twice a day anymore to disconnect/reconnect my peripherals.

Work is fine – there’s a lot to do and I’ve been very productive. When I start feeling overwhelmed (which is often) I can take a few minutes away from my desk and stand outside. It’s nice, even if it’s raining. WM and I walk around the neighborhood at lunchtime. A few things have changed about our walks. One, everyone is very cognizant of the 6 foot distance. And two, everyone is MUCH friendlier than ever. We’re all so thrilled to see other faces these days. I finish work at 4:30 and instead of having an hour to commute home, I stand outside and breathe. I am missing out on some reading time, but that’s okay. I’m having trouble concentrating on books. And then we cook dinner.

Once a week, we get takeout to try and keep the local businesses afloat. Tonight we had wings from PJ Whelihan’s. It’s funny — I miss bars. I never even went to bars often but I miss the conviviality. I bought a gift card from Elixr in Center City Philadelphia with the hope that will make up for the Friday morning business they’re not getting from me. But I feel guilty. I can’t send money to every business that I’m not using.

Around 8pm I Facetime Mom to see how her day went. I miss her. We’re only 3 blocks away but it could just as easily be 300 miles. When the weather warms up, I hope we’ll be able to hang together outside more.

Each weekend I bake something different. This weekend’s baking project was Smitten Kitchen’s peanut butter cookies and they are delicious and really easy to make. Next week I might try chocolate chip muffins.

WM repainted the main bathroom in a dark gray color that I was initially on the fence for but ended up liking. Once the light fixture and towel bar are installed, I’ll take a few pics. A small bathroom remodel seems so mundane and possibly tone-deaf but it’s normal and I cling to normal like a lifeline.

At TNP, we were supposed to go back to work on April 1. I don’t think that’s going to happen. WM’s school is closed indefinitely. And my followup mammogram from my stupid cancer scare in October was postponed from April until May.

If you feel like reading about my anxieties, do continue. If not, you can bounce after this adorable picture of the dogs. Please be safe and stay home if you can.

I’m nervous about catching this. I’m nervous about watching my loved ones catch this and then waiting 7-10 days to see if it turns and they have to go to the hospital. I’ve read too much information but still know next to nothing. Some days I just want to go lick a subway handstrap and catch it so I can be done with it and go back out in the world. NJ is hit hard (thanks, NY) and it’s going to get way worse before it gets better. But every day and every week we (me, my loved ones, you) can stave this off is a day and week closer to when the smart people who are working 24/7 to figure this out will have a vaccine. And every day/week we stave this off is a day/week where we’ll get better at knowing how to treat it.

By the end of the day my throat and chest are tight and my shoulders hurt and I feel like I’ve caught it. Unfortunately, when I’m physically stressed, my throat, chest, and shoulders tighten up. Hooray. I take my temperature once a day.

And here is where I show you my true colors and what an awful person I’ve become: every person who is out partying on beaches or cramming into airports in Salt Lake City or going against CDC/WHO advice is not only a risk to us (me, my loved ones, you) but they’re also one more human lab rat that the docs get to practice on so that by the time we get it, we’ll receive better care. I know I am wrong to feel this way and if you have any meditations/mantras/etc that can help me be a better human, please drop a comment below. I try, I really try, to be compassionate but every day I see idiots partying or holding insipid and blustery press conferences my heart hardens and I hate myself just a little bit more.

Please be safe. Please stay home.