I’m bored. Really, really bored.
Since the cases of COVID went back on the rise about a month ago I’ve been put back on shelter-in-place orders. Since my transplant I’ve been immunosuppressed, so I have to be extra careful right now. And until there’s a vaccine.
While I’m lucky enough to live in the perfect spot for walking, it’s only a small reprieve. I still have to come back home. I’ve sewn masks, colored, organized, puzzled, read, watched a ton of crap TV. I may have finished Netflix, and I’m about one more isolated week away from cutting my hair. With bangs. I’ve spent hours working on Streetlight and Streetlight‘s Anthology; reading and editing over and over again. There have been possibly hundreds of Facetime calls. My mom and I talk daily, and most of the conversations last about two minutes because there is literally no new news. NONE.
I have taken to going to the dump as often as possible, and making small grocery pickups –two of the few places I interact in person with humans besides my husband (masked up and distanced, of course). The chores that are usually such a pain have become one of my few tastes of freedom.
There have been some get-togethers with family – outside and farther than six feet apart – but it’s such torture when it’s time to go and we can’t hug. There’s nothing I want more than to be able to pick up my niblings and squeeze them extra hard. We’ve had numerous birthdays now and the lack of our usual celebratory family dinners feels so wrong , especially for the little ones.
Back at home my husband and I have settled into the pandemic version of our relationship. It’s not so different from normal, since he’s working and I’m usually home, but we are careful to give each other some alone time (after a conversation about the need for space when he started talking to me as soon as I woke up one morning. I’m not a morning person. We’ve been together over eighteen years – he knows this.) We get to spend weekends together and have conquered a number of projects, which has been great. And I get to hug him, which is a bonus.
But when he’s at work, and I’m at home with the dog, I start searching again. I’m really at a loss as to what to do next, what all-engrossing hobby I can pick up. I’m open to suggestions.
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