COVID-19: Day 8 Part 2

Yes, I think this is going to be one of those historical lines in the sand. That was then, this is now. So, I blew the dust off my blog and am posting daily journal entries. I think we’re in for a wild ride — right now the bicycle is just wobbling but I think we’ll be into full-blown careening before long.  — A comment I made on a Facebook post.

I just turned the governor off.  Rumor was rampant that he was going to close the state.  It sounded to me as if he’s leaning that way, but not there yet.  Instead, he exhorted us all to work from home if we could, wash our hands. and encourage others to take this seriously.

I’m taking it seriously.

I truly believe that this is one of those moments in history where we date things before and after.  Pre-9/11, Post 9/11.  Pre-World War II, post war….  Etc.

I’m emotionally worn out.  And eating potato soup with dumplings.  I’ve had Law & Order:  Special Victims Unit on mute all day and Alexa blaring music of my choice.  I’m full-blow A.D.D.

This too shall pass.


COVID-19: Day 8 When this is over. . .

COVID-19 is a kind of war, I suppose.  All I know is that I woke with this song stuck in my head.  I’ve been singing it all day.  Alexa, bless her robotic little heart, plays it for me anytime I ask.

In the spirit of hope, I purchased shoes today to wear when this war is over.  They’ve been in my Amazon cart for months and I HAD successfully resisted in buying them, but today was different.  I’ve been avoiding thinking too far into the future for fear of what my brain will conjure.  Yes, my anxiety — worry about the future — is in hyperdrive.   I’m not usually anxious.  This is new behavior for me.

I’m driving myself slowly crazy.  So in the interest of mental health, I let my brain fast forward to the time when this all over.  My life’s motto has long been “this too shall pass.” Hence the new shoes.  I decided that I will need new shoes when I foray into a crowded public again.

An Aside:  When I was a child, I was told (by a book?  a teacher?  my own imagination?  I don’t know) that, surprisingly, shoes are one of the first things people notice about a person.  I took that way too much to heart.

We should be well into sandal season by the time I get to wear them.  In the meantime, it appears I shall have time to do a great many things around the house that I haven’t had time or motivation (or time and motivation at the same time) to tackle.  When this war is over, I envision having a clean, well-organized home.  I’m also going to lose weight, write my first novel, and teach my dogs some manners.

My hopes may be a bit overblown, but this I know:  this too shall pass.

Happy Saturday, y’all.  What are you doing to take care of you?

COVID-19: Day 7 or Only a Week?

Today they announced the virus was confirmed at the health department 20 miles west of me.  They also confirmed that the virus was found 40 miles to the east of me at a local medical facility.  Thus I have this song stuck in my head:

It’s kind of been a lousy day.  I went to the office where I was completely alone for a few hours.  Later, some of my co-workers sequestered themselves in their offices and we talked to one another from afar.  Eventually, we gathered in one office, keeping more than 6 feet between us, and talked.  I, for one, am craving human company.

I’m at loose ends and I really can’t articulate why.  I told my co-worker today that I will be okay once we’re in the throes of this thing.  It’s the waiting, I think, that’s unsettling me.  I roared through the stuff on my desk and discovered it was only 3:30.  With nary a thing to do, I left early.

I arrived home to puppies glad to see me.  They’re always glad to see me.  They’re glad to see me after I’ve left for 90 seconds to check the mailbox.

Speaking of which, I found a rejection email in my electronic mailbox.  I had been hopeful.  This one had submission guidelines that said they make most decisions within 15 days.  They had mine for 42 days.  (Counting?  Who’s counting?)

It’s Friday.  Normally, on a Friday, I would be gleeful about the idea of two whole days sequestered in my beloved barn, but these are not normal times.

The plan is to clean with a vengeance.  I have got to do something productive and quit eating.  Yes, I’m stress-eating.  Really bad.  Terrible.  Going-to-be-bigger-than-a-house-if-this-doesn’t-stop-soon-stress-eating.  (Phew!  Ran out of hyphens.)

So, it’s only been a week.  Doesn’t it feel like an eternity since last Friday when we were all joking about a full-moon and Friday the 13th in the same week?  LOL.  Good times.


Only a week.  Out of how many?

Honestly, I’ll be okay once we’re in the middle of this thing.  I’m good in a crisis.  Really.


COVID-19 Day 6: In such a rush that….

I’m discovering that I’m not cut out to work from home.  Since most of my officemates are working from home, I feel like I can safely go to my office (I have a private one) and spray Lysol everywhere and be OK.  Those of us working — 6 or so, — are keeping our distance and practicing safe socialization.

We’ll see how this goes.  For how long.

But this morning, I was excited at the idea of being around folks.  I was in such a hurry that I left without my work materials and had to return home to get them.  When I did finally get to the office, I promptly locked my work materials, purse, keys, and phone in the car.  A $100 later, Glenn, the friendly neighborhood locksmith, freed me.   That was a $100 I really didn’t have.  Hoo boy.  On top of all the groceries I bought, it’s going to be a lean two weeks.


It’s been a day.  But it was good to have one that was at least a little normal.

Not that it was all that normal.  My book club did, after all, meet via Zoom.  We are taking this social distancing thing seriously.  We have loved ones we are protecting.

My hands are chapped from washing, I’m taking my lunch as are my lunch partners, and the office has tumbleweeds blowing around, but it’s more normal than trying to work from here.  As long as I think it’s safe, I think this is my plan.

Happy sequestration folks!

COVID-19 Day 5: Live from Here

plum editedSo, it’s Day 5 of my Exile for the Good of the Realm.  I happened upon a Facebook post exhorting us all to share our art from home using the hashtag #livefromhere

The Plum was born of a writing prompt wherein we were to listen to Rhinanon Giddens “Moonshiner’s Daughter” and write a thousand words or so.  Later, I entered the piece into the Women of Appalachia Project’s WomenSpeak juried selection for Spoken Word.  It was accepted for the 2019-2020 season which has been truncated due to COVID-19.  I get a lot of enjoyment, oddly enough, from publicly reading this story.  I hope you enjoy listening to it!

COVID-19: Day 4

Today, I scored toilet paper and West Virginia finally confirmed its first case of COVID-19.

Yes, I ventured out to the Kroger again.  I needed some things and rumor had it that the store had been restocked.  Besides TP, there was an urgent need for critter food, bleach, and cherry pie.  Plus a $100 worth of other stuff.  My larder is stocked.  All I’m missing now is hamburger which I may or may not pursue.

I worked from home today.  It was a weird workday.  I started at roughly 7 a.m. instead of my usual 9:30 a.m.  I roared through email (there isn’t much at 7 a.m., but more than you would think) and then did the dishes so as to clear the kitchen table.  I moved the laptop to the table and spread out my work materials.  It was time to descend into the bowels of my organization’s webpage.  I always get a bit nervous when tweaking the webpage.  It’s a wonderful webpage, professionally designed, and it’s beyond my skill level to maintain.  Every change provokes prayer.

At 11 or so, I started ruffling around for something to eat.   The first snack of many.  I called my boss to see if she missed me.  (She didn’t.)  I spoke with a co-worker.  Called my mother.  Worked on some photo editing.  Rinse and repeat.  That was my day prior to the Kroger.

I ventured out at 4 pm.  I was surprised, but not really, by the number of people out and about.  The Kroger looked like a war zone.  I noticed the absence of background music.  There is no soundtrack to the apocalypse.

Post-Kroger, I have a kitchen full of work materials and groceries.  I have too much food for my available storage.  I generally do my shopping for at most a week ahead of time and usually not even that.  Then there’s the fact that I have enough for three meals a day instead of the usual one and a half.  There’s food everywhere.  Three (3!) pints of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream almost didn’t fit into the freezer.

I need to find a rhythm to this new life.  Right now, I still feel as if I’m waiting for the shoe to drop.  I thought that feeling would occur when they finally diagnosed a case here.  But, well, nope.  There’s still free-floating anxiety.  Oh, and cherry pie.