Depending on where you are in the world, you may be in the first couple of weeks of self isolation or you may be well into what feels like week eleventy-billion.
It may have even felt nice at first. The ability to just chill a bit and not have to spend every ounce of free time socializing may have provided a small silver lining to the general suck of this entire situation.
Seriously, not having to explain to extroverts that I'm not staying home because I don't have anywhere to go, but because I want to be home is wonderful.
Thank you for the invite to a crowded bar on Friday night, but I'm going to enjoy a bottle of wine with a book and my dogs.
Once I'd run out of the obvious cleaning and moved onto things like baseboards and sliding door tracks, I knew it was time to stop and find a new hobby.
Maybe something that requires more wardrobe consideration than "pajamas I sleep in" and "pajamas I lounge in".
When you have the courage to say no to an invitation so that you can spend the night in blessed quiet, it's liberating.
When you are mandated to stay home for weeks with only your dog for company, it suddenly feels like work.
I've talked to the neighbors over the fence multiple times since this started. I don't recognize myself anymore.
If we are one of those lucky people who isn't deemed an essential worker and doesn't have to risk our health everyday to keep the world working, there's a strange sort of guilty relief. But also so much boredom.
So we do what we can. We support essential workers with donations and patience and evening cheers.
And we stay home.
