COVID-19 Directive
To say that my routine has changed due to COVID would be an incredible understatement, as I’m sure can be said about almost everyone in the world at this point in time. My classes have shifted online and work has done the same— it’s funny how I found this one bedroom apartment fairly spacious before I spent every waking moment in it. It used to be that every morning, usually around 10, I’d be out the door and off to one office or another. I’d talk to some coworkers and classmates and spend my time working in the company of other people who also had too much to do in too little time. I would happily walk to the Village for a cup of coffee in the mornings with a friend— now I feel like a dog on a walk when I take the short jaunt to my mailbox, soaking up the sun like a deprived flower. Now, with no need to get to the office or dress like a respectable employee (whenever I actually tried to do so), I roll out of bed whenever it happens, usually much later than I’d prefer. It’s difficult to work from home in an academic and professional capacity since I don’t have (the space for) a dedicated space to get things done. I usually try to muddle through assignments or projects on the couch (shared with a bite-y cat) or at my tiny kitchen table (stacked with books). I share a patio with my next door neighbor and although I’ve never seen him out back, my paranoia about contracting COVID as someone with asthma keeps me firmly indoors. I’ve found myself pulling all-nighters or staying up until at least the sunrise before crashing until well after noon, getting most of my work done in those odd hours when most of the world is asleep.
Aside from checking my mailbox and starting my car, I have yet to actually leave my apartment. I have my groceries delivered (there’s an app for that) so that I can stay home while also feeling like I’m helping someone whose income depends on people tipping based on their ability to differentiate between brands of olives. I do the same just about every #takeouttuesday so I can do the same with the delivery drivers through services like Grubhub and Doordash. I don’t have the money for it, but neither does anyone else, really, so I do what I can. During my few trips outside I usually only notice the lack of cars and the few remaining residents of my complex that have on walks, either in pairs with their partners (I assume) or by their lonesome, all of us eyeing each other from a distance. Please, keep your germs over there, 214.
It might be odd to say but I’ve noticed that over my self-induced quarantine I’ve started appreciating my body more. That is to say, when I look at myself in the mirror, the typical nitpicking doesn’t follow. The only people I really see with any regularity now are celebrities in movies and TV shows who don’t count and are basically their own species. I don’t pinch and prod much anymore, don’t pull out the scale or suck in like I always do even though I live alone. It’s… definitely odd. I can’t remember this happening any time in the past ten years. Silver lining for me, personally, I suppose.
I mentioned before that I’ve been having trouble sleeping. I have chronic insomnia, so it’s not new to me, but surviving on snatches of two or three hours of sleep every other night is. I have noticed an increase in patience with my bite-y cat, which is nice. (Seems like we’re both stuck in here together, buddy. Better make the best of it.) I’ve been eating more inconsistently but, hey, at least I’m saving money on groceries! The amount of couch sitting I’ve been doing has activated a weird paranoia about developing bed sores so I’ve taken to doing work twisted up into odd yoga poses on my yoga mat. At this point, it’s really just a third workspace.
My anxiety about the pandemic, the looming end of my employment contract, the fact that I’ll be graduating sooner rather than later, the general incompetence of our government, how much I (don’t) have in my savings account— those combined have been enough to inspire a few anxiety attacks. Fun! It’s been something of a roller coaster for me, emotionally. I can have a few good days in a row, when this just feels like a very isolated school break. A bad week usually follows. I come from a family of very open and tactile people. I’m used to constant hugs and pokes and, at times, rough housing. Now, I’ve been locked up in my apartment, alone except for two cats who are, shockingly enough, not humans, for over a month. I’ve been crying more, feeling more despondent, in equal turns distancing myself from people to make the loneliness hurt less and clinging so tightly to them through technology that I wait for them to decide it’s enough and block my number. If anything, this experience has proved that I’d go full Chuck Noland if I ever found myself on a deserted island. I don’t have a Wilson, but I guess I could draw a face on my fridge.
How will COVID impact the future? We’ll have a recession that I’ll be a part of once I graduate into unemployment. The government will learn nothing from this in the same way that it has never learned from any of its mistakes (yes, I’m exaggerating, I know). People will continue to deride minimum wage workers— you know, the only ones currently keeping the country moving at this point? In an effort to stop being so negative, I at least convinced a number of friends and family members to watch some really good Netflix shows I’ve been suggesting for a while, so… I’m calling that a win for all of humanity.