Just rolled out of bed and have not had my coffee yet. Todd is singing “Lady” in the kitchen, loudly, and I’m trying to ignore him. Sensing this, he turns his attention to Sabra and sings to her – which of course she loves because – treats.
“…. Saaaabra, your love’s the only love I need…”
“And it’s the only love you’ll have if you don’t stop singing that song.”
It’s day 10 of “quarantine” and it’s overcast this morning at 8 a.m. and much cooler than yesterday’s 76 degrees. Kenny Rodgers has passed away, not from coronavirus (I don’t think), and the world has lost another legend.
The cesspool of misinformed idiots on Facebook making hoax claims and hysteria-mongering statements about the government wanting us locked down so they can control us for anything other than the spread of a deadly virus with no cure, has settled somewhat. Instead, the news feed has been flooded with pictures of empty store shelves and memes about toilet paper and homeschooling.
The empty store shelves initially have no effect on you, kind of like hearing about a little virus making thousands of people on the other side of the world sick. Can’t happen to us. Except yesterday. Opac and I went to the store to pick up some food/essentials, albeit at the absolute wrong time of day, and aisle after aisle we pushed our cart through was empty. I mean, EMPTY. NO frozen foods. NO meat. NO boxes of pasta. NO canned goods. AT ALL.
But plenty of chips left, which is where I ran into a friend and promptly burst into tears. It’s odd to stand so far away from a friend in conversation, crying, surrounded by salty snacks. She and her daughter stood next to each other, while O and I stood next to each other.
I went to work yesterday, because healthcare. Todd didn’t want me to go. I don’t really want to go either, but I have to admit it was comforting to be there, a stark change from last Friday –day 2 of quarantine – when it was all so fresh and scary and we knew less.
In the mornings, we see only children 18 months and younger who need to keep up with the immunization schedule because the CDC does not want to see a return of measles and pertussis in the middle of this. We see sick patients in the afternoon and I can count on one hand how many we saw yesterday. We don’t have much work to do. It’s boring as hell but we keep up the laughter and this little bit of normalcy going to work is what helps.
We have Town Halls every day during lunch, except yesterday’s had to be cancelled in media res because some asshole who conferenced in didn’t mute his/her phone and the speaker, after multiple requests for folks to mute their phones in a voice much kinder than I would’ve used, decided to end the meeting. Really. How many of these have we had now? It’s not rocket science.
Meanwhile, Veruca returned home on Wednesday (day 7). We ignored the 6-foot distance and hugged continuously until she’d had enough and disappeared into her room. Later, she asked to braid my hair and I acquiesced, knowing full well I was going to look hideous like the last time. She insisted I didn’t look ridiculous before cracking up.
I dragged out Opac’s old Legos – four large boxes – commencing to rebuild his old sets. Todd was all in. And then I started getting edgy because he stepped in on my cleanup of the VW van for a moment – and that’s when I realized how the funny memes about families being trapped together for days are going to be so not funny in a few weeks.
O and I were talking a mile a minute last night in the kitchen over dinner, and – because I don’t want ya’ll to think I’m not annoying too – Todd interrupted me and I knew without him saying anything more that I needed to stop shouting and slow down.
So. Day 10. It’s now 9 a.m. on a Saturday and Todd has already designed a $60k addition on the back of our house with two bowling lanes in it and I’ve nearly finished my pot of coffee. V is back at her dad’s house – both he and his wife are now home indefinitely with all the shut-downs – and I’m glad that he’s a certifiable germaphobe who will protect her like a warden. O is still sleeping. He’s now accepted his lockdown sentence and we will be finding activities to make it a little less miserable. Not the first of which will be a deep cleaning of his smelly bedroom.
I have a handful of nuts I’m hoping to befriend a squirrel with. He came visiting on Day 8 with a giant walnut in his mouth… right up to the sliding glass door on his hind legs looking in. I have every reason to believe this is the same squirrel who buried a whole peanut in my planter on the deck and forgot about it, the same squirrel who “buried” a nut inside on our grill, and the same squirrel who used to peer in at Oliver sunning himself on the opposite side. I wondered briefly if he was actually looking for him.
I put a peanut on the doormat and waited for him to come back and he did! Sat on hind legs and gobbled it up. I’ve named him Fergus.
Stay strong! Stay healthy! Be responsible!