There's a Pandemic On!
The voice above is supposed to be more excited than panicked, but the word pandemic automatically just implies panic.
We've been self-isolating since mid-March, maybe? I know that's behind the curve for the rest of the States, but a rural area doesn't think things are coming our way very quickly. It comes to us, but it takes a minute.
Luckily it's spring: we can sit on our porch and holler at our neighbors; there's lots to do in the yard; and since we can't go into any buildings but Dalton does have an open container law, we can sit in appropriately distanced parking spots, drink some local beer and still play trivia through the bar window thanks to Facebook (ugh, I typed that). There are plenty of nice things about being in rural area: living with someone, being in walking distance of friends with yards and roads we can stand in and yell from, and an open container law. (I cannot emphasize that last one enough.)
I get to work from home, and we had enough furniture to set up a home office quickly. I get to work next to my sleeping cats and in some natural light. I see folks in far more lonely and confined straits than we are and am really grateful for what we can do.
All that out of the way.
Goddamit this sucks sometimes. I would like to hug a friend. I want to go see my folks. I want to sit at a restaurant table and eat fresh restaurant food. I would like a nice cocktail I didn't have to shake. I want to see a different city. I'd like to go on the trips we had planned. I'd like to be able to know what's going to happen next week so I can plan a trip in the first place. I want to be able to breathe normally in a grocery store, and it'd be nice not to feel like a leech on The Supply Chain when I run out of paper towels. I'd like to quit being stressed about The Supply Chain and all the people who work so hard to fill it. It'd be hella cool to sit on someone else's porch. And yeah, my ends could use a trim.
Ahem.
Shit's kinda cray. And I've been up and down with it. Mostly down. I look at DPH graphs cobbled together by redditors every morning and drink my coffee. And try not to read Twitter in the evening with wine. Peter, of course, is solidly putting one foot in front of the other, planning out yard projects in his brain and keeping the grass cut. I had been trying to plan dinners, make sure the trash was put out, manage the cat smell (there's always cat smell), keep the kitchen sink cleared up, etc. I dropped a couple of those things and my brain cleared up. We are eating not great things, and the house could be tidier. But I'm going to be okay with that. I'm trying really hard to put things on my to-do list that make me feel internally together (put some purple in your hair, do your nails, maybe shower?) even if that sacrifices the external appearance of togetherness.
Trade-offs. Balance. Whatever the hell gets you through this and you're not an alcoholic by the end. #goals
We've been self-isolating since mid-March, maybe? I know that's behind the curve for the rest of the States, but a rural area doesn't think things are coming our way very quickly. It comes to us, but it takes a minute.
Luckily it's spring: we can sit on our porch and holler at our neighbors; there's lots to do in the yard; and since we can't go into any buildings but Dalton does have an open container law, we can sit in appropriately distanced parking spots, drink some local beer and still play trivia through the bar window thanks to Facebook (ugh, I typed that). There are plenty of nice things about being in rural area: living with someone, being in walking distance of friends with yards and roads we can stand in and yell from, and an open container law. (I cannot emphasize that last one enough.)
I get to work from home, and we had enough furniture to set up a home office quickly. I get to work next to my sleeping cats and in some natural light. I see folks in far more lonely and confined straits than we are and am really grateful for what we can do.
All that out of the way.
Goddamit this sucks sometimes. I would like to hug a friend. I want to go see my folks. I want to sit at a restaurant table and eat fresh restaurant food. I would like a nice cocktail I didn't have to shake. I want to see a different city. I'd like to go on the trips we had planned. I'd like to be able to know what's going to happen next week so I can plan a trip in the first place. I want to be able to breathe normally in a grocery store, and it'd be nice not to feel like a leech on The Supply Chain when I run out of paper towels. I'd like to quit being stressed about The Supply Chain and all the people who work so hard to fill it. It'd be hella cool to sit on someone else's porch. And yeah, my ends could use a trim.
Ahem.
Shit's kinda cray. And I've been up and down with it. Mostly down. I look at DPH graphs cobbled together by redditors every morning and drink my coffee. And try not to read Twitter in the evening with wine. Peter, of course, is solidly putting one foot in front of the other, planning out yard projects in his brain and keeping the grass cut. I had been trying to plan dinners, make sure the trash was put out, manage the cat smell (there's always cat smell), keep the kitchen sink cleared up, etc. I dropped a couple of those things and my brain cleared up. We are eating not great things, and the house could be tidier. But I'm going to be okay with that. I'm trying really hard to put things on my to-do list that make me feel internally together (put some purple in your hair, do your nails, maybe shower?) even if that sacrifices the external appearance of togetherness.
Trade-offs. Balance. Whatever the hell gets you through this and you're not an alcoholic by the end. #goals
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