Hey, Person out there with cabin fever?
I see you. I get it. You are 300% done with staying at home all.the.damn.time.
I’m asking you, however, to hold on a while longer. How long, I cannot say. I don’t have that answer. But please, if you don’t need to go out, don’t. Flatten the hell out of the curve.
I may be an Essential Service provider, but there are moments when I resent that my need to earn money puts me in a really difficult position. I am still waiting for a shipment of latex gloves from Amazon, which I am reasonably assured will arrive anytime between yesterday and the end of this month; and I have not been able to get a mask that won’t trigger buried anxieties about being suffocated.
I honestly do not know how I made it this far without getting sick. It could also be that I am a Typhoid Mary: asymptomatic and a frightful carrier. If that were true, though, how have my husband and my daughter escaped? I am overthinking this. Totally.
Am I worried about the impact of businesses and stores re-opening? You betcha. Nothing in the news reports I have read bodes well. I’m not even sure I want to go back to the way things were before this pandemic. You know that meme that asks if you could live in near-total isolation for a million dollars for x amount of time? Cut me a cheque, find someone qualified to pilot the plane, and don’t make me put my animals in the cargo hold.
(Breathe, Vic. Inhale, count to 3, exhale.)
If only it was that easy, right?
I can tell myself this: I don’t have to go out, until I have to. Think happy thoughts. Smile at the rainbows and hearts posted in windows throughout my work travel areas. This won’t last forever.