I’m writing another novel. It’s called COVID 19. I don’t think I’m writing it for publication, more just for me. It helps me journal all this. Who knows, maybe someday the grandkids will ask what this was like. I can let them read this.
Here is chapter 11 that I just wrote.
Chapter 11
What week is this? 4? 5? Who knows. They are talking about relaxing the stay at home orders after next week, to get businesses reopened and restart the economy. People are saying this is all a conspiracy or something the media has cooked up or made worse than it is. Is that people’s paranoia? Denial? The direct reports we get from a local Dr. who is in NY volunteering is that people there are dying like crazy. My niece in my hometown says it is insane there. Our community is slowing down the spread because we are staying home, most people are taking this seriously. But the numbers are still going up. I am against letting up. We can do this a while more to keep people safe. One person ill or dead is too many. I know that is easy to say when my finances and those of my immediate family are not effected.
The whole thing continues to be surreal. Day to day, all is well in my little world. I have a beautiful home, a loving, fun husband, things to do, good things to look forward to. I do miss the grandkids. But I am actually interacting more with my immediate family that I did before. Hell, I even called my Dad last night!
I was just sitting with Scott on the lower patio a few minutes ago, basking in the sunlight, philosophizing. We didn’t do that all that often before. I asked him, besides seeing the grandkids in person and hugs, what are we really missing? He reminded me that we are sitting in an unknown, not knowing what will happen in the future, when or if life will return to normal. I agreed, said it’s like sifting sand beneath us. It seems ok here on the surface, but underneath it’s completely unstable, capable of change, insecure. Anyone close to us could get sick at any time. We could. And we may not recover. Underneath that, for us, because of our faith, is the feeling that even if bad shit happens, we will not fall apart. It will be ok. It is ok with our souls. People who don’t have that faith must really be feeling it.
I’m still tired, lack energy, feel slightly depressed and unmotivated. It isn’t too hard to try to change my thinking, to be grateful, to do something that brings me joy, facetime someone, write, go to happy places in the house or yard, sing, praise. But it is hard to find motivation to exercise or clean. All I really want to do is eat and nap. I now officially weigh more than I have ever weighed in my entire life. And I don’t really care! I was hot sitting in the sun and Scott asked why I didn’t go in the house and change into my shorts. I wanted to just strip down to my underwear and keep sitting right where i was. I told him the truth, first, the shorts were all the way in the house and I didn’t have the energy, and second, my shorts all have tight waistbands. Not happening. So I drummed up the energy to move to the shade, on the deck. I am now writing and then will read for awhile. I’m trying to dredge up the energy to clean the kitchen. I had a burst of energy yesterday and deep cleaned three rooms of the house.
So I keep moving forward, one day at a time. When that is too hard, I take it hour by hour. And look for something to be grateful for, something to do that brings joy. And I give myself permission to just chill. Motivation will come again and I will capitalize on it when it does. When this all goes away, I will lose the weight. Or I won’t! It’s ok!
Yesterday I saw on facebook (I spend an inordinate amount of time in that false virtual world), that Ann Frank and her family of 7 spent 761 days in a 400 square foot space. If she did that, I can surely do this.
dianegclark 