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The Darker Side of Quarantine

Three weeks ago, we had a family emergency. My dad fell at home and woke up the next morning confused and in a lot of pain. Mom drove him to the hospital and, because of the pandemic, was forced to leave him there alone. Because of his Parkinson’s disease, he was kept overnight for observation. As you know, it’s not the best time to be in the hospital, and mom was understandably upset.

All I wanted to do was put on my face mask, jump in the car and drive over to see them. But, I couldn’t do it. I was still sick and the risk of infecting my parents was too great. Thankfully, he came home the next day with a broken arm.

And there it is. The dark side of life under quarantine. Yes, I miss shopping – I mean visiting – my favorite bookstores and going to the grocery store without having to suit up in a mask and gloves. But not being with my loved ones in their time of need was the absolute worst.

And here’s another thing. I have no boundary between working at home and my family life. It’s all blended together now. Quarantine has ruined working from home for me. I don’t mind the occasional day at home when I need to run a personal errand, but I miss the camaraderie of my colleagues in the morning. I want to go for a walk around the building with my friends. The courtyard in the office complex was recently renovated, and I was looking forward to sitting in the sun on my lunch break.

On the other hand, I’m not in a rush to go back to the office or other public places. For those who don’t know, I live outside of Philadelphia, and we have had more than our fair share of COVID-19 cases and deaths. Most people around here take social distancing seriously, but I am sure there are a few outliers. And I have to be okay with the fact that I don’t know who those people are. Thankfully, we have an excellent governor who knows how to lead in a crisis. However, this still doesn’t alleviate the anxiety I feel around this new normal.

When I do feel it is safe to go out with people, the first place I will make a beeline towards is a local restaurant. I don’t care if I have to bring my own silverware. I just don’t want to plan and cook every day anymore. Before the pandemic, I had a few go-to recipes, and even I’m getting tired of them. If you send me recipes, I’d love to have them, but make sure they are easy ones, please.

And finally, did you know that Shakespeare wrote King Lear while quarantined? I say – good for him. I’ve read so many articles about all the wonderful things people can do while self-isolating – start a business, write a book, and solve world hunger. The pressure to succeed is out there, and I’m feeling it in here.

Is it okay if I just get out of bed every morning and do the best that I can? Yes, I’m working on a book, and I’m trying to build up a side gig as a freelance writer all while still gainfully employed. But there are plenty of times when you will find me sitting on the couch with a bowl of ice cream watching The Crown on Netflix. And that’s okay too. And later on, if someone asks me what I did during quarantine, I’m going to happily say that I survived.

 

 

The Write Space

When Jenna left for college, I decided to use her room as my office. Knowing she would be back for winter and spring breaks and summertime, I only took over her desk.

 

Still, her room is a prime piece of real estate in our house. And it’s been a long time since I had a quiet place all to myself. Using her room also had the added benefit of giving me a reason to go in there on a regular basis. When I spent time in her room, I felt her presence in our home while she was away at school. I didn’t like how dark and clean it was all the time. So, repurposing her room into my indoor “she shed” made sense to me.

It didn’t take long to set it up. I found a new home for her bat mitzvah centerpiece from six years ago and cleared out a drawer of her miscellany. I cleaned out my overflowing bookshelves of every writing book I own and relocated them to her shelf. Underneath her camp photos and school track ribbons, I set up my laptop, brought in my favorite pens and blank journals and got to work.

Every night, I closed her bedroom door, put on my music and let the waves of creativity drown me. And when I was cursed with writer’s block, I’d lie down on her queen-size bed and read a book or take a nap. It was the perfect office space for me.

And then the pandemic hit us all. School closed for the semester, and I had to relinquish my coveted writing space back to her. Now, my current “office” is wherever I put my laptop. My choices are sitting on my own bed with a blue Yogibo pillow chair propped up for my back or sitting on a barstool at my kitchen counter. Neither one of these spaces is ideal. There is no place to put my writing books and prompt decks. I can’t leave out my favorite pens because they will most definitely disappear. And yes, I admit that I’m a bit of a snob about what pens I use for writing. I just can’t write from my heart with a cheap promo pen from Weight Watchers in my hand.

This may sound completely crazy to many of you who read this, but I know my fellow bloggers will understand.

E.B. White once said, “A writer who waits for ideal conditions under which to work will die without putting a word on paper.”

He’s probably right. Truthfully, it doesn’t matter where I write. But before the pandemic, I was etching out a solid writing routine. And now, I miss being able to go to a dedicated space where my only focus is putting words on the page. The kitchen is a high traffic area and not a great place for one to concentrate.

Once we are free from quarantine, I’m sure I’ll find a nice neighborhood coffee shop to support where I can sit and create something special. And soon enough, both my kids will leave the nest, and I’ll have my choice of writing desks.

I’m not in any rush, but having that writing space was nice for a while.

 

 

 

True Confessions

I’ll be honest with you. I’m having a hard time motivating myself these days.

Take writing this blog. I’m in the middle of a 30-day blog challenge and I have plenty of time to think of ideas and write something original every day. And yet, I struggle with what to say and hitting “publish” after my seventh draft feels like I’m giving in and saying – this is good enough.

I’m also having trouble working from home. I’m in a new role that no longer places me where I like to be – in the middle of it all. And without having my colleagues nearby, it is difficult to feel connected.

And worst of all, I’m not into celebrating Passover. This comes as a shock to me because I’m the one who typically leads the Seder and buys enough matzah and kosher for Passover food for everyone. Not to say that we didn’t mark the occasion. Thanks to the 11th plague of coronavirus, we had a perfectly lovely family seder last night via Zoom, but I left the meeting a little sad. Social distancing from loved ones is hard enough and seeing their smiling faces on a screen can’t compete with having them here in my home.

My husband and kids are making the best of it with their work and school schedules. They are busy enough to keep the days somewhat interesting. I wish I could say the same. My recent accomplishments include clean cupboards, folded laundry (and put away), and finishing the third season of The Amazing Mrs. Maisel. I’m safely snuggled into my comfort zone reading books and drinking coffee. My dog is much more attached to me than ever before, and the feeling is mutual.

Part of this funk I’m in likely has to do with the fact that I’m getting over a nasty cough. Illness is a major trigger for my anxiety which also plays into my current mood. Thankfully, I never had a fever or breathing issues and was never sick enough to require testing. The antibiotics are finally kicking in, but they wear me out.

I know one morning I will wake up full of energy, feel like myself again and snap out of it–and the sooner the better. All I have is time on my hands.

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