Day Seven (Friday)
This shit is getting real.
Last night Newsom (Gov of Calif) quarantined the entire state indefinitely. It’s all self-imposed and I suspect moreso to get the word out to employers that do not have an immediate need of assistance to the public that it’s really time to shutter their doors, but let’s hope it helps. I think in a perfect world he’d like to keep us isolated for 8 weeks, but I don’t know how that will be done. I mean companies would fold by then. This lends itself an air of even more seriousness than before.
I’m going back and forth on whether or not I should go to the store today. I didn’t think it was that bad of an idea – I stay six feet away from anyone, get in quick and pick up a few essentials, and get out. Come home and scrub like there was no tomorrow, but my daughter thinks it’s a really bad idea. I’m still mulling it over. I’m not set up to starve anytime soon, so there is that. My fear is that if I don’t go now, it will be worse later.
I also went online to buy toilet paper in case this does get worse before it gets better, and I paid THIRTY FOUR FUCKING DOLLARS for an 8-pack of some off brand, that won’t be delivered til May 1st. No joke. But more on that in a moment.
I don’t know if I have a psychosomatic issue, or allergies but I have the tiniest of headaches, tightening in the chest and have been barking a small cough this morning. Honestly I’ve had a cough of sorts almost daily for a long time and I’m certain it’s allergies and my lungs still working these two years later to clear out the smokers crap. I’m certain the tightness in the chest and headache is stress. I have no fever, or anything else. But damn it’s a scary time.
Spoke with a friend of mine from work and asked how he was doing. He and his family were hunkered down and doing okay. Said the kids were just starting to get the seriousness of things. We discussed groceries and the craziness in not being able to secure certain items. I am glad I bought toilet paper when I did, but I’ll tell ya I am being mindful of it just in case. Yes, I hope this gets back to normal to a point within a few weeks, but the reality is it could go on for a couple of months – so yeah no luxury grabs on wiping oneself. Anyway the friend told me of a janitorial supply site he went on to buy TP, so I hoped on after our convo and BINGO there it was; twice as much in quantity, brand name TP for half the price. I quickly ordered, but I’ve learned until things are in-hand don’t feel too fortunate. I went to cancel my first over-priced order and they tried to tell me they’d see what they could do – I reminded them that with a May 1st delivery date unless they were walking this here from a few states away I was pretty sure it hadn’t already shipped. They finally acquiesced and the order is canceled.
A slight depression has set in. I think it’s depression. I just find myself, moreso at night crying a little bit easier. Things touch me emotionally so much easier.
Day 8 & 9 (Saturday-Sunday)
This is the second weekend of hunkering down. I am so sick of typing the word quarantine. I’m lonely. I’m simply missing human interaction beyond texting. The psychosomatic cough is completely gone. The headache is also gone.
I decided to go to the store yesterday. I had made a list of things that really outside of eggs and bread were non-necessities. I kept in mind what the gal from Pavilion’s told me about Friday’s 10AM delivery, and about 10:15 I headed out. My wee one was a bit aghast and as politely as possible asked me to please forego it. I went anyway. While I was out, I got gas, because while I don’t think this pandemic will reach proportions that gas will be effected, if you had asked me a month ago if I thought the entire state would be shut down I’d have said no as well. Plus having The Stand be ones favorite book since I was 15, I am a little aware I might need as much gas as possible if I start dreaming of Mother Abagail.
So I headed out and filled the tank. The streets were a little empty, but not too much more than they would be at 10AM on a Friday morning. When I finished I headed over to my preferred grocery store, and that was a little weird. Everything except the store and a Verizon store were all dark and closed up. Why the Verizon store was open was beyond me – customer support JIC*? The grocery store had a weird spaced out line in front – social distancing – but there weren’t that many cars in the lot. I soon realized they were limiting the number of shoppers, and like a nightclub, as soon as one left, one was granted entrance from a gloved and masked employee, also offering you a disinfectant wipe, which each person took gladly. I immediately headed for the eggs, and to my dismay they were empty. Not even fake egg. As I panned down the aisle I saw things actually looked worse than they did the week before when I was there. No dairy – no milk, or creamer. No cottage cheese, or yogurt, or sliced cheese or sour cream. I passed by the frozen fish and immediately picked up two boxes, not certain if they would have anything else “meatlike”. Sure enough, the lunch meats and butcher cases were all empty, but as I got closer to the meat cases I saw the frosty gleam of frozen meat just placed out. Signs of “2 per person” seemed to be on everything. I noticed people working the deli counter and asked if they were serving, which they were. I got a pound each of two cheeses and moved on. I know I was a little on the panicky side of shopping, picking up two of everything, not certain if this was the last time I’d be able to shop in a while. Cost meant nothing to me thankfully, because the only thing left were the expensive items it seemed. Frozen veggies were back, so I stocked back up on them. Let’s hope I eat these before I throw them out because of freezer burn.
I kept looking over to the egg case hoping the truck arrived late, and no luck. I finally had to call it as I had been in there longer than expected, and skeedaddled out intent on heading home, but not before the wild hair up my ass that was determined to find me some fucking eggs convinced me to try another store. This on, had no preventative precautions set up. People waiting for checkout acted as they never heard of social distancing. I quickly scanned where the eggs were supposed to be, and found empty refrigerator cases there too. I found a couple of items that I wasn’t able to find in my own store, and weighed out if it was worth standing in line for (Sugar Free Slow Churned Butter Pecan? Are you kidding, I didn’t even know they MADE such a thing – yes we are waiting). As I was in line, I saw a woman a couple of people ahead of me, load a big box onto the checkout belt and I saw the words EGGS on it. I immediately asked her where she found them, and she told me where in the store, but added you had to buy the entire box. Fine, I’ll take the box I thought to myself, until I read 150 Eggs. Even under the best circumstances I couldn’t even store 150 eggs, let alone eat them. I don’t know enough people locally that I could GIVE enough of these eggs away too either. So no eggs.
Until that is, on Facebook (yes I’m back and for this reason alone I’m glad) on the city page, someone mentioned that a local steakhouse, was selling not only to-go dinners, but had an extremely select grocery list you could also buy from. No strings attached. No price gouging. I called today and not only did I deal with the friendliest sweetest gal, I was able to get two dozen organic eggs and a pound of unsalted butter.
My wee one made a suggestion of me considering a foster cat, since I will be home to take in the reaction of Eva. I thought at first, no – no I wouldn’t want to put Eva through that, BUT – the idea is tickling the back of my brain now for two days and I actually looked online to see if there were any declawed cats out there. If I take in an adult they would have to be on the same level as one another claw wise, otherwise Eva has the distinct disadvantage in her own home. I wouldn’t put her through that. A kitten I’d consider, but then I think of all the scratching I’ve seen done to friends furniture and I wonder if I am ready for that yet? I mean the furniture is not brand new, but it’s new enough that I want to keep it the way it is. Either way, I’d have to break quarantine for it all, so for the immediate time I’m just going to keep it as a thought.
Days 10-14 (Monday – Friday)
The days are honestly bleeding into one another. I haven’t left the house since last Friday’s sojourn to the grocery store and gas station. I didn’t even open the door for fresh air the first few days of the week. Too cold outside. The weather seems to be describing the overall situation poetically. Grey skies, with rain – interrupted with small moments of sun, only to fade back to more grey, more rain. Fortunately by Friday there are no clouds – guess the metaphors are even bored.
Bored seems to be the word of the day. I mean I am working from home, and that’s probably the only highlight – but I’m still bored. I’ve tried to keep to a routine, knowing this quarantine won’t last forever. I still set the alarm for the same time, even though I technically can sleep 90 minutes longer. Instead of setting it for that 90 minutes forward, I hit snooze. Six times when it goes off at 6:30 and then in ten minute intervals. I don’t have to bargain with my mind, like I’ll wash my hair tomorrow, because The Cat doesn’t care if my hair is smelling and looking fresh. I still wear a bra (apparently that was something many gave up first) and I still get dressed, but in yoga pants or leggings now. I sit at my dining table which doubles as my office, and open the blinds, so I can continue to monitor the life of my neighbor, as well as make note of how often the garbage trucks come. (I’ve counted four times this week) I’m a creature of habit, and being the neurotic creature that I am, I love routine, so I recently found that old seasons of Roseanne come on at 6PM on some weird channel called Cozy, so I close up work and settle down for an hour or more of that every night. I’m not as hungry, or I’m not eating as much as I did before, so the Quarantine Fifteen as I’ve heard it won’t hit me. I think there might be a correlation between work and my stomach issues too, but I’m going to wait and see if my thoughts pan out there.
In between this ever-so-fascinating fucking routine, I’m doing small things around the house in between lulls at work; Monday I cleaned out a cabinet and found like $300 worth of vape products in a box that I no longer use. I made banana bread on Tuesday. Wednesday I worked on the pantry and hit a shelf that had cereal boxes from 1972 stored in the back and Thursday allllll the packages started to arrive. Retail therapy rears its ugly little head, but with a small sense of caution. Every time one package would arrive, I’d rush out to grab it, thrilled for the opportunity to glimpse another face albeit it briefly and never too close, and like a squirrel being fed nuts one at a time, I’d rush back in with my new Precious. No sooner would I open it, and then I’d rush to the kitchen to scrub like it was time for surgery. Literally rinse, lather-lather-lather, rinse, repeat. My hands were getting chapped by the end of the day. I’ve gone to online for my shopping as many have. Things like toiletries, or little items like new slippers and such. The trick is finding stuff that can be delivered within a reasonable amount of time. Like the toilet paper I ordered about nine days ago hasn’t arrived, but I’m not hurting for it. I’m now waiting for cat litter that I hope comes sooner than expected.
Speaking of which The Cat who I’ve dubbed the co-worker has both amused me greatly and irritated the fuck out of me, which is an indicator of how bored I am. I mean I love her, and I’ve always been amused by her, but lately she takes a little more center stage in the overall spectrum of my life. She is taking this time with me home to constantly badger me to play with her. Which is where amusement can turn to irritation. She is consistent in her meowing, because she knows she can outlast me, and I’ll get up and play or give her skritches. Her hours of play seem to go from 8AM til about 4PM, so balancing her and a job are both full time. But I have to give her this; She’s really just about the only one I talk to daily. I feel like I could write a whole book about the weird and amazing and a-typical things she does. The book would sell in the high numbers of one – because like your own children, no one really gives a flying fuck that your extraordinary pussycat has finally discovered the joys of playing in a small cat sized box. Nor will they be surprised that she enjoys that, over the slightly expensive cat bed that finally arrived from CHINA—that to be fair you had no idea was shipping from there until after the order was placed, and how you scrubbed so hard and with such hot water after touching the packaging that you might have taken a layer of skin off your hands and arms.
The allure of social media is waning. I’m not regretting reactivating my Facebook, but I’m not on it much either. I’ve joined a couple of new pages, like an OC Shopping Guide that advises which stores have stocked their shelves, and where specific items in the area can be found. To be honest I’m in no hurry to head out in the real world yet, but I digress. Instagram is a bit better. I can at least keep in contact with my brother through that. Tik Tok? Haven’t opened that in days. I guess my hours are being filled I with a bit more of a new routine, so I don’t have all these empty hours to fill during the work week.
I vacillate back and forth between being totally okay with the isolation – I mean I live alone –and being on the precipice of a deep depression. I was moody last week because I think the virus and the WORLD WIDE pandemic was surreal. World Wide. That’s alarming. When the realities of it would really hit, it would sadden me. I mean there is NOWHERE to run to, NOWHERE to hide. I could easily fall down a rabbit hole of sadness with this, but like most, I soldier on, and sort of tuck the true realities of this in a corner pocket of my mind. It’s so weird to think that when reading books like The Stand, or watching The Last Man on Earth (for the record I was a fan of that from day 1) I’d wonder, what would I do in a pandemic that could wipe the world out? I’ll be honest, I’ve always figured myself as one of those who probably wouldn’t make it in a dramatic pandemic, be it zombies or otherwise. I’m too slow, and too chicken shit. I think the only time my bravery might peek out would be to save someone else. I could get into a whole personality dissection on explaining that, and who knows maybe it would come down to loving others more than loving myself – but that’s not going to happen here today. Which isn’t to say that a lot of introspection over relationships hasn’t played out with all this time. Friendships and who and what they mean to me. Reasons why some of those failed. Epiphanies to the left of me, realities to the right, here I am – stuck in the middle with me.
Lately self-pity comes sauntering out moreso when I think I get the “Woe is Me” blues, figuring how most of those closest to me aren’t really alone. They don’t have to worry that in a time like this, if they were to say, slip and fall in the shower, no one would know until it was probably too late. It’s not like my work would suggest a welfare check because I didn’t show up for the day without calling. Then the pity and fear turn to sort of anger. A sort of fuck you to everyone. That’s a deep gut-wrenching thing to admit publicly. And I do think in my overly-sensitive six-year old emotional way of dealing with things at times; I’m fucking sick of being that person who is the one to constantly reach out. A few close friends haven’t even said boo, and without social media wouldn’t know if I were dead or alive, except for the fact that I reach(ed) out to them. The ones who’ve been in my life forever have been good about communicating. Sunday I had a phone call for nearly three hours with a close friend I’ve had since high school and it was just so nice. Plus it filled out the day wonderfully. Fortunately overall I come back around and deal with the situation as it is. I dust myself off, and remove the self-pity suit, and fold up the giant finger saluting those who I feel have neglected their queen friend. Instead I’ve started to call my oldest every morning at 10AM, and it’s truly a highlight of my day. A real voice. Sometimes we just sort of bullshit, and sometimes we get a little more real. It’s really my only contact with the outside world, withstanding a couple of telephone conference calls for work here and there.
Of course I wonder things like would The Cat really eat me if I ended up dead? I think as much. What the hell, I’d be dead, so I’d be happy to sacrifice myself for her. Yeah, way too many thoughts in all this quietness.
I think we were supposed to head back to work next Wednesday, but I am betting that gets extended. With the current explosion of new cases, it doesn’t seem right to quarantine when the numbers were low(er), and head back with the numbers, high. Of course I am worried about my job. My 401k like everyone’s took a nasty dive and that required some emotional soothing when I saw how much. I question how prepared were any businesses for such a calamity? My paranoid self always assumes it’s my head on the chopping block next. Take everything – the virus, the isolation, the overly-sensitive thoughts, the job security worry and of course it comes rolling out in weird dreams. Some are about loneliness, and some are simply anxiety filled, but they seem to waning a tad, so maybe my mind is adjusting to this temporary new norm.
Which leads to the last of this. The new norm. It’s funny how fast people can condition themselves to new habits. I cannot fathom not washing my hands moving forward, moving past this – in any fashion less than the current surgical scrub I do now on a regular basis. Shaking hands? That makes me cringe when I see it on TV or such. Will that become something that no longer is, moving forward? Will historians look back and show how shaking hands was a manner of formal greeting, up until the Great COVID-19 of 2020? What really will kill this virus off or will it be another vaccine, that so many can fight about getting or not getting? So many questions, and waaaay too much time.
In the meantime I have to find new ways to entertain come this weekend. I think I may work on the spare room, or do a face masque. Maybe I’ll find my adult coloring book and lay on the spare bed, and color while exfoliating my face. I’ve got the time for all of it.
*I have since then found out that cellphone stores are considered “essential businesses” and that’s why the Verizon store was open.
Single File Dating 