Dear Diary,
I guess you could say that what we are doing at this point feels like it has a rhythm.
Kids have zoom school Mon-Thursday from 8:45 to 3:30…with breaks for which I am entirely grateful. It’s strange enough to be trapped inside all day, any semblance of normalcy will be pawed with appreciation (since it’s the only safe thing to touch).
The hub is working from home, taking many calls, either in my office, or our bedroom or outside among his Japanese Maples in the backyard.
I’m trying to write and or research (which is hard when the medical library is closed and all the good journal articles require special access) from the various places he is not taking a call.
Somehow the days have a strange elastic quality to them. Somehow they are both shorter and longer than the pre-pandemic days.
I am waking up later, so staring work later, and probably stepping away from the computer earlier in the evening…which should make the day feel abbreviated.
But when I’m not writing or researching, I’m trying to track down toilet paper (so far, unfailingly unsuccessful–I don’t understand where it’s all gone and why it’s not being replaced?), trying to order groceries from somewhere, researching recipes to make the 9 zillionth meal for someone, cleaning everything that’s too slow to get away from me with lysol (so dogs still require a bath), washing clothes and dishes, walking dogs, reading about the latest Covid updates, talking to my family and a few friends, texting, twittering, working on this website….
Its a very weird suspension of time and space, and that’s only for the lucky ones who aren’t sick yet….what’s going on in hospitals all around the country feels like it’s happening in another country. Doctors, nurses, hospital staff and working themselves far too hard while the rest of us are idling…unable to do anything helpful other than distancing. It’s a strange distribution of effort (and I for one am opposed to it).
until tomorrow