Well, well, well. Here we are. All at home. All collectively sitting in our firey little feelings as the “big germs” I tell my kids about ravage the world’s economies and life as we knew it. Things seem to have stopped overnight. I look at my 2020 calendar these days and wonder, “Why the EFF did I even buy this?” I shade in each square to count the days of quarantine. Today is 47.
That’s 47 days of intense family time, 20 of which were spent co-working AND co-homeschooling with my other half–until, like so many others, my company laid off a bunch of us to stop the bleeding. That’s 47 days spent 90% at home, 10% out in the world doing mandatory things– like picking up groceries and taking Sunday drives. The Sunday drives are what is saving me right now. Seeing anything other than the four walls of my home is a welcome treat. Driving to a desolate place and setting up a tent for the kids to play in for a while in the fresh air is a welcome distraction.
I’m reading Glennon Doyle’s Untamed right now, and it’s so dang timely. I’m trying to do something creative each day, whether it’s cleaning the pantry or making a sign for my yard to greet the many neighbors now out for walks on our street. Strangely I feel like I’m seeing more neighbors than I ever did in the “before times” and I’m hopeful that on the other side of this, more of us will be connected and kinder to each other.