Day 1

(well it’s not Day 1, but it’s the first day I’m taking this for a spin, so be kind, please)

I lean in closer to my mirrored image for the third time. Did my hoops look too…um…garish? What is the appropriate accessory for this situation? Why did I even give a fuck about my jewelry? Well, I guess it is because it is seemingly the only thing that is keeping me grounded and feeling relatively normal right now. Something about putting on regular work clothes, jewelry, and yes, a spot of makeup, is helping me feel like the world is not spinning off its axis at present. Kind of bizarre to be worrying about my shoe choice during times like this, but the alternative is wholly unappealing. Leopard mules it is. Also, fueling anxiety about all the ‘what ifs’ was entirely contrary to the bits of advice I have been sprinkling about my loved ones.

What did I tell them again? Oh, right. Breathe. Stay calm. Be safe. Keep perspective. Wash. Wash? Yeah, wash. What in the actual fuck is going on? I feel like I have gone mad. I feel like our world has gone mad.

The crazy bit is that the pandemic doesn’t shock me. Not that I could have necessarily envisioned this particular horror show, because I couldn’t have, at all. Realistically, we have been subject to a few outbreaks (SARS, H1N1, and so on) in my lifetime. I suppose that it is just the size and impact that is throwing me for a loop. More than that, I think it is the way it is being handled by our government and well, by my fellow human. It seems pretty obvious to me that this is a time to come together. Well, not literally. People should stay the fuck away from each other. But, they should come together from a mind and heart standpoint. Right? Like this is the time that we should all agree to be smart and vigilant and respectful.

And is that happening? Nah.

Not even close.

People are disregarding what authorities and the medical and scientific community are sharing and well, demanding. People are pretending like they know better. I don’t. I am clearly not a fucking scientist. I mean really. There have been several times that I’ve subbed out ingredients in a recipe thinking ‘hey that’ll work’ and holy shit it hasn’t. Baking soda and baking powder are NOT the same, k? And there is no real legit sub for cream of tartar. I’ve also used multiple cleaning supplies simultaneously only to realize after that the sickie feeling I experienced was 100% because those chemicals should not be mixed. My only understanding about science is gleaned from my brilliant father or my attempts to absorb what leaders in that community say.

We don’t all know better. We shouldn’t be claiming to know better. We also shouldn’t be regurgitating what we hear. Haven’t you ever played telephone? Jesus. Everyone fucks that shit up. No, Brendan did not sleep with the cat. Come on people. Just forward a link (if you think it is worthwhile) or keep the information to yourself. Stop correcting other people. If they want to believe that this is a conspiracy or a hoax, fine. Whatever. Just stay the fuck home. You chose to get married or live with someone or procreate. Now you about to get reallll friendly with those folks. That’s right. Remember the whole ‘for better or for worse’. Yup. This might just be the latter part of that equation. But you’ll figure it out. Even if you live in a tiny hovel, you can separate. They are called headphones. Use ‘em.

Your boyfriend doesn’t feel like watching ’90 Day Fiancé’ just because there are no sports on? Cool. Take turns picking programming. Pretty sure reality television is not a reason to call it a day. Your girlfriend doesn’t care for the snacks you chose to stock up on? Throw in a piece of fresh fruit or blow her mind with a yogurt parfait (literally this is just throwing granola on yogurt…ta da). Plus, where the fuck are you going right now? Like work it out people.

Same goes for us solo folk. I feel really fucking weird right now. Remember my fixation on my earrings? That is just the tip of the proverbial iceberg. True story. I contemplating getting coffee out yesterday just to see another human that doesn’t work with me. Unnecessary. But hey, no one tells you that alone by choice is different than alone by doctrine. It feels restrictive, which it should. We can do this, right? I can do this.

Someone asked why I wasn’t wearing pajamas at work today. I shit you not. I mean, I could. There are literally 25 people here. But I can’t. Not because I am so pious or professional. If I start wearing pajamas to work, I will lose all sense of structure and routine. I will crumble into a pile of confusion and disaster. Even if I get to the point of working from home (please, please, please), I am definitely not working in my pjs. I just can’t. I have to keep to some normalcy. I mean, I am not wearing a button down and slacks on my couch, but I’ll wear pants that aren’t flannel or covered in stars.

Yeah, so I’m walking out the door in a minute. My commute is a flat 16 minutes now, so I’ll arrive just on time.

This is just the beginning of the story, but I’m hoping we are closer to the end, if you know what I mean.

Stay safe. Stay the fuck home (if you can, and you probably can).

Talk to you tomorrow.

L.