I am now in day eight of solitude, self-imposed exile, quarantine,
whatever you want to call it. Last Wednesday, a week ago, was the
last interaction I had with another human being. I went to the grocery
store in the morning as I am wont to do. Fool that I was, I didn't realize
that it would be my last time for a long, long time.
I had heard the buzz about the coronavirus, but there were no reports of
the virus being anywhere near my town, how quickly things changed.
By that afternoon in my writing class, it was announced that all further
classes would be canceled, indefinitely. Now, they had my attention.
By the time I arrived home there was a notice that senior pickleball
league was canceled and the Y was shutting down also.
That was something I was not expecting. One after another, planned
events were being canceled; my Thursday night Euchre Tourney, girls
night out Friday Fish Fry, tickets to the Opera House, all now defunct.
All this in the space of two days. So, I had decided to err on the side
of caution and isolate myself from the virus as best I can. How hard
can it be, I thought? Well let me tell you...
Day One: Thursday, I awoke at my usual 5:30-6:00am, and I realized
I didn't have to pop right out of bed. I wasn't going anywhere anyway.
So I spent a luxurious forty-five minutes planning my day. I still had
a few odds and ends to finish up from my trip to Peru, and I had all
day to do them. At 7:00 I turned on NPR and went about getting ready
for the day. The news wasn't that alarming, there was a brief segment
about the virus, but then news turned to politics as usual. I passed on
my usual bowl of oats with cranberries and walnuts and opted for ham
and eggs and toast. I could get used to this. I settled back and read the
morning papers, I get five, and when I looked up at the clock, it said
11:02. I had whiled away the entire morning and I felt not one shred
of guilt. This isn't too hard to take, I thought.
Day Two: Friday, I awoke at the usual time. I have to start going to
bed later, I told myself. Myself didn't answer. I went back to my bowl
of oats, and then I noticed something. There was maybe 4 or 5 servings
left in the box. Huh, what to do? I checked out the egg situation, sixteen
eggs. Well, if I ration things, I can last almost three weeks with what I
have for breakfast. I decided after I ate, I had better take an inventory
to see how long I can hole up here. I decided I was good for a least a
month. No sweat! All that silliness took me into the afternoon, so I
thought I would call it a day and read a bit. I was having trouble
concentrating, it seems those stolen minutes that I would use to read
the books that I consider candy for the mind, meant so much more
than actually sitting down for hours reading. Who knew?
Day Three: Saturday, up at dawn again. I realized how much I used
to look forward to the weekend before this. Now it is just another day
of finding something to fill the hours. Breakfast of toast and coffee.
don't know what I am saving the oats and eggs for, but it seemed like
a good idea. I have taken to talking aloud to myself, and wonder if
I could be losing it after only three days. No, I answered myself. The
first thing on my list, laundry, then I will clean the house. Not like I
do every Saturday but a thorough cleaning, a move the furniture and
vacuum underneath cleaning. My condo is 1500 sq. ft. not exactly
a palace but big enough for me. I attacked the job with fierce
determination, moving from room to room, I was unrelenting. I
searched for dust bunnies and cobwebs and if I found one it was
vanquished. Mopping, vacuuming, polishing, dusting, if it didn't move
it got cleaned. By 4:30 the house was done and so was I. Ta Dah!
Day Four: Sunday, my favorite day of the week! A day for a leisurely
breakfast, three cups of coffee and the Sunday papers, then a lovely
dinner and a long walk. The papers were filled with doomsday predictions
of how the virus was going to spread and kill us all. Finger pointing was
rampant, I skipped half of the editorial pages, as they were just so much
of the same. Dinner was sparse. Don't know why, I was looking forward
to the debate in the evening. My choices amounted to voting for Crazy
Uncle Joe, or Angry Jewish Grandfather. Fie!
Day Five: Monday, up at dawn. NPR was reporting that Crazy Uncle Joe
had won the debate. I decided I had to take some control of my life and
after breakfast I made a list of things that I had wanted to do but had been
putting off for months. This was more like me; I could put some order back
into my existence. I set aside a time and dedicated so much time for each
task; working, writing, reading, computer time, no more just wasting time.
yet all I have now is time. I posted the list next to my computer, as I
completed each task I would check it off. After all that organizing I decided
I earned the afternoon off!
Day Six: Tuesday, up at dawn. The first thing on my todo list was my taxes.
After breakfast of oats (one of my last) I sat down and gathered all my figures
together and began in earnest. It was 9:00am. At 11:30 the taxes were e-filed,
the forms were printed and filed, the tax-deductible receipts were gathered and
filed and I checked the first thing off my list. That was too easy. I made lunch
and went for a long walk. It was sunny and cold and I walked briskly, I felt
great when I got home. By bedtime, Crazy Uncle Joe had swept the primaries.
Whoopie!
Day Seven: Wednesday, up at dawn. After breakfast I would tackle the rest of
the items on my list, a break for lunch, and by 1:00pm I was done. This can't be,
I cried! Back outside for a longer walk. It seemed impossible that I could walk
for 75 minutes and not pass another soul. I felt like I was in a Stephen King movie
and no one told me. I came home and called a dozen friends just to hear their voices
and laugh with them. I am not alone!
Day Eight: Thursday, oh hell, I stayed in bed until 7:30. Nothing to get up for. The
mail did bring me my assignment for the election polling, something is still happening
in the outside world. I have noticed I am hungry all the time. I know I am not hungry
I'm just bored, but if this doesn't change I will be fat and board. Damn!
Day Nine: Friday, in bed until 8:00. Are you as bored as I am? If you have read this
thus far you must be. If this is the new normal, God save us all. Only seven weeks
to go!
I'm just sayin'.
No comments:
Post a Comment