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.

Sigh.

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.

 

Throwback Thursday: Me at Doug’s house about this time of year

dougshouseIt’s Throwback Thursday and I’m in an impossibly good mood.  Things are going well in my life and that’s such a change from recent years.  I’ve mentioned before that the Raising Sand album my Alison Krauss and Robert Plant has been one of my mourning staples.  I’m far enough in the grief process that I no longer cry when I hear these songs — they just provoke wonderful memories of Doug.

I’m in my office at work — lunch at my desk — and rocking out to the album.  I’m happy, but I do miss him.

Long, Uninterrupted Stretches of Time

This guy speaks cogently about a long-time wish of mine – long, uninterrupted stretches of time to get stuff done.  My inner adult and inner child are squabbling at this very moment trying to force me off this sofa to get ready to go to work.  I have a daunting to-do list including a fair amont of creative type stuff.  Tomorrow morning, the to-do list will include everything that’s on it now, plus some more stuff.  This will continue.  Finally, a crisis will arise and there I’ll be, off the clock late in the evening, finally getting something done.

This speech was not a revelation TO ME.  If my time is fragmented, so is my work and I end up with pieces hither and yon.  I sit down down to try and aggregate them and I’m interrupted yet again.  I’ve never been able to explain to folks that when that happens, I have to rewind and start over.  While being taking to task for having not completed a creative project, I explained I needed an uninterrupted stretch of time.  The response:  “Well, we know that’s not going to happen.”

Yes.  Yes, we do.

 

Returning to the world with grace and style.

Oh sure, I suppose it could be colder and the morning commute worse, etc. etc., but I might have handled it with more grace if draped in fur knowing TrueLove SuperStud was watching.

I left my office for vacation on Dec. 21st. Today was my first day back. After nearly two weeks off, I could still use some more time. That I stayed up last night until nearly 2 a.m. fighting with the damn sewing machine didn’t help me transition this morning.

He was an (externally) gorgeous man.

I used to think it a sign of a great vacation to return to work more tired than when I left. Sometimes, I still feel that way. The truth is, this time, I am not more tired. Two weeks off did me (and my abode) a world of good, but like hitting the snooze alarm and muttering, “Ten more minutes, “ I wanted a couple more days.

And I certainly didn’t want 16F and a dusting snow that turned to ice on the windshield.

While “on vacation,” I kept the house a balmy 72F, sometimes a tropical 75F, round-the-clock. Aberrant behavior, you betcha. I loathe paying Appalachian Power one cent more than I have too. But, hey! I was on vacation.

After the indignities of the day (filling the gas tank, finding myself too large to button the stylish down coat that matched my stylish high-heeled boots which also felt too small, and walking into small, but muchly unwelcome problems at the office), I returned to a home holding, per the thermostat, at 55F. The thermostat’s been cranking since then and it may achieve a room temp of 70 or so before I crawl into bed, but since my last act on the way up the stairs will be turn it down to 58F or so, tomorrow morning will be unpleasant.

Eventually, I’ll acclimate to this, my normal winter regime. And, really, I shouldn’t complain. Unlike last year, winter pretty much arrived when it was supposed to. Theoretically, it could all be over but the shouting in 10-12 weeks. But the truth is, I left the house today wearing stylish boots and returned home wearing my office slipper booties because they were warmer and more comfortable. I also parked at a meter instead of in the lot I pay to park in. The meter was a half-block closer to the door.

I’m going to need a few more days to handle Old Man Winter with grace and style.

Well, yeah, it's not this bad.

Still, the cold is paralyzing me. I’ve been so productive around the house the past few weeks and I’ve loved catching up on projects, starting some new ones, planning some others and enjoying the improvements. The last thing I need is to spend the next 12 weeks burrowed on the couch shivering my my-time away.