Week 5

It’s officially been a month since we have been housebound.  No work, no school, no nothing.  It feels like SO. MUCH. LONGER.  If you think about it, doesn’t it feel like you’ve lived several lifetimes since the beginning of the year?  And we’re only in APRIL?!  It boggles my mind that we are in our 5th week of social distancing/isolation/quarantine/torture.   Is there a light at the end of the tunnel?  WILL WE EVER FEEL JOY AGAIN?

We will.  I know we will.  When times get really tough and I start to feel like jumping off my roof is a good idea, I think about the day the restaurants open again and how I will probably weep when the waiter asks me what I’d like to drink.  By the time that day rolls around I won’t be pregnant anymore, so I will order alcohol and it will be joyful.  I think about the day I can stroll the mall and take Charlotte back into the Disney store to tell her she can’t buy whatever she wants because money doesn’t grow on trees.  I imagine going to the zoo, the carousel, a concert.  All of these things I took for granted! Now I’d just like to go to the grocery store without a mask and gloves.  I don’t think it will ever feel normal to go out into the world and see EVERYONE with masks and gloves.  I feel like I’m on a movie set every time I step out of my house (which is literally once a week, if I’m lucky).  I can’t wait to watch Charlotte play with her friends again.  All of the progress we’ve made has been undone with this quarantine.  And by that I just mean she’s naked all the time and thinks bathing is optional.  (I mean, if we aren’t going anywhere, isn’t bathing optional?  Nevermind.)

It is the strangest time of my life.  I think it’s the strangest time of all our lives, no matter the generation.  Is it nice to spend extra time with Charlotte before her sister comes in two months?  Sure.  Do I also want to send her to a Corona camp to get one damn minute to myself?  Absolutely.   I’m so thankful I can work from home when so many people can’t, and since I’m not commuting anymore my pregnant body doesn’t hurt as much as it did.  But I even miss commuting.  I miss the quiet of the bus ride, stopping at Starbucks, walking with my head phones in.  I miss my life.  I miss human interaction.

One day we’ll get back to where we were.  One day we won’t be wearing masks or gloves or obsessively wiping down groceries with lysol wipes that we’d gladly pay double for.  While we’re waiting I’ll just make a list of the places I want to go eat and the alcohol I’m going to order and hope the day comes sooner rather than later.