Is it Day 3? I suppose if you start counting by the day we found out that Marc would be furloughed, it would be Day 3. Or it could be Day 7, because it was a week ago that the girls had school cancelled for the first day. You could also make a compelling argument that today should be Day 1 – since we spent most of yesterday returning work equipment and filing for unemployment. Either way – it feels like it’s been forever. And also like it’s never going to end.
News reports are terrifying, and conversations with Marc are even worse. We had a really grim talk yesterday about who might survive this – which older relative would be healthy enough to catch the virus and not get seriously sick. Going outside is just scary now – I went to Walmart to get some stuff, because we were already out returning work stuff and I want to minimize the amount of time I spend out in the world, and I saw an older woman in the produce section. She was carrying oxygen with the little nose prongs and she coughed – and I immediately thought “well, you’re going to die.” Then I was horrified, both by my immediate reaction and the next thought which was that I hoped she didn’t cough close enough to me for me to catch it.
I came home, threw all my clothes into a washing machine with super hto water, and took a shower.
I’m kind of a mess. I mean, I’m trying to hold it all together. Reminding the kids that we’re FINE. That they don’t have to worry about money, that the dog will be okay. That the world will start again. What I’m not saying is that people are going to die. We’re going to lose people we love in this. It’s the backdrop to everything I’m doing all the time.
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