I’m finally watching “Fleabag,” and when she said that at the end of Episode 4, I thought, “Yeah. I get it.” I’ve cried at some point almost every day recently. From sadness, rage, helplessness, whatever. I try not to let it go on for too long, because you know, no eye-touching, no face-touching. Gotta wash the hands again.
I’ve been working at home for a little over a week now. Yesterday was the first time I left the building (or at least went beyond taking the trash to the dumpster). I went for a 15-minute walk and my body was like “Ugh! Activity! We were not prepared!” I guess I better look into some more at-home exercising beyond yoga, otherwise I am going to be in a very very bad place when/if it comes time to rejoin the world again.
Somehow, despite virtually NEVER leaving my home, and having no children to keep occupied, I have managed to accomplish none of these things:
- Keep my apartment cleaner (if anything it’s gotten worse)
- Tackle some postponed household projects
- Do some work on neglected creative projects
- Get more reading done
- Cook more/eat better
Yes, it’s only been a week, and there will likely be many more weeks to come, but I have come to HATE the idea that this time of enforced at-homeness has become just another opportunity for self-improvement and therefore another opportunity to fail in comparison to others: “I’m learning to play the piano!” “I’m re-tiling the bathroom!” “I’m baking a loaf of bread every day!” “I’m finishing my novel!”
If you are managing to do any or all of these things, I salute you. Don’t let my crippling inertia make you feel bad about your own successes. But I’m also kind of squeamish about treating this as a kind of an unexpected “staycation,” because of the seriousness of why we’re doing it. While we’re lounging at home waiting for the next D-Nice streaming DJ set to start, someone is suffocating to death all alone because it’s too contagious for their loved ones to be with them.
Suffocating is one of my worst fears. Being intubated and on a ventilator goes right along with that. I think a lot of people don’t really understand what that is, they think it’s just an oxygen mask or something, but no, they shove a tube down your throat and they hook you up to a machine that breathes for you. They have to sedate you so you don’t try to rip the tube out. I guess being sedated is a blessing, if they can manage to find a ventilator for you. Every article I read about it sends me into a tailspin. But I keep reading about it anyway.
I’m rambling. Now I’m going to put some color on my hair and see if that helps.