I am finding that I am rather well-equipped for self-imposed solitude. I live alone and do not mind being at home. I’m not one who craves a time out on the town, never really was one of those and now, in my 50s, I am relaxing more into my general disposition of “homebody.” My creature comforts in this small apartment are many and adequate. I have Internet. I have podcasts and books and films to catch up with. And, I am so far blessed to be able to continue my job from home.
It is astonishing how seamless a work-at-home gig can be. My team uses Slack, Google Hangout, and our many other online tools to maintain a collaborative effort, which is essential for what we do. I am grateful to get to keep working for now, though I do not pretend this will continue indefinitely. This economy is about to become a black hole. I hope my job will prevail. I am certainly grateful to have the opportunity to keep working for now.
I have nearly finished my first week working from home, plus a few days. I have ventured out once, Monday, for wine. Priorities. Granted, I was in the liquor store in the morning, so perhaps it is always so barren and buttoned-up that time of day.
I doubt it.
SARS-CoV-2 is what it’s called, and it’s quite a character. A virus. Little shitty particles that are currently really fucking the world up. Get one inside you and it may or may not reek havoc on your lungs to the point where you will require a invasive respiratory assistance and therapy, including intubation and a running respirator. Or you might get a tickle and a chill. Fucking thing is a tease.
So the lucky thing is that I seem to be all set for this “social distancing” lifestyle. I reside in a comfortable apartment (can you imagine me having to do this when I lived in my small stupid studio downtown, oh, I would have leapt from the window); I have good Internet; I can procure good food; and I am not averse to long periods alone.
Perhaps those of us who grew up as onlies will have an advantage in all of this.
However: The pantry has gotten to a pathetic point. I intend to venture to the grocery in the morning.
Wish me luck.
Meanwhile. It’s time to watch Ken Burns’ Jazz again. Oh yes.