I used to take a picture of my outfit every morning and post it to Instagram.
I'm not an influencer and it's definitely not one of my aspirations. I like the likes. Feedback is nice. But I was using Instagram for the same reasons that Insta's owners want us to use it. I was gathering data. I was using the likes to determine what items were not going to make the cut during my quarterly closet purge. I can't be bothered anymore. I still get dressed every day in real clothes, but only my husband ever sees them so now the only thing that makes the cut is what makes me feel uncomfortable when I'm sitting at my desk for hours on end.
I used to set an intention for the day.
I would use oracle cards and an astrology app. I would post that on Instagram, too. Not because I'm looking to be a spiritual leader to the masses. I would put it there because it's a less wasteful thing to do than write it down in a notebook. But my intention for every day is the same now: Don't let every day be the same.
When this started, I admit that I was reveling in my ability to go through the motions of every day without interruption. I am a person who thrives on ritual. But without something out of the ordinary to look forward to, the ritual becomes automation. I'm not reveling anymore. Mostly I'm just weary and I don't see the point of maintaining my rituals and routines if there's nothing to break them up.
I recognize that this line of argument is veering into "open things up so I can get a haircut" territory. That's not where I'm going with this. Though I would love to spend an afternoon having the hair ripped from my legs so I look less like a sasquatch, I know that I can't. I understand the value of having my movements restricted - or of restricting my movements if nobody else will, for that matter (looking at you, economy-minded politicians) - for the greater good. What I am learning is that I need to become more ingenious about how I shake up my routine so I don't become a robot.
Friday, May 22, 2020
Sunday, May 10, 2020
How I'm Dealing
Most of my recent posts have been angry or anxious, and I'm still feeling that. But it's the weekend, so that feeling isn't quite so fresh...though Monday's coming ;)
Because my arm's reach work fills me with anxiety, here's how I'm spending my precious free time to let all that go.
1. To-Do Lists - I've been really good at these since time immemorial. I come up with things to do, many of which are recurring, and I do them. Checking things off lists is extremely satisfying to me, and since I made the list, there aren't too many completely odious tasks on it.
2. Baths - I decluttered the bathroom a few weeks ago. Though it did make me anxious to pitch all the various expired creams and analgesics I found in my cupboard (not to mention my husband - he's still going on about how I tossed his 10-year-old polysporin), I also located a number of smelly bath soaks and salts. I'm not good at just sitting, even though doing nothing is probably what I need right now, so I've been playing a 20-minute guided meditation while I'm in there. It gives me something to focus on while I'm soaking up all the aromatherapy.
3. Bike rides - or walks. But mostly bike rides because I find it's easier to socially distance when I'm on the road with the cars instead of on the sidewalk with people who don't seem to understand what's happening in the world. (Also, not getting myself needlessly worked up about those people because I can't control them...that's another way I'm trying to deal). Last year I pledged to ride 100 km in one month, which I did fairly handily. This year, I'm trying to double my previous month's mileage. Last month, I rode about 88 km, so this month my goal is 177 km. See? Checking things off lists is extremely satisfying. The weather lately has not been particularly cooperative about the bike rides lately (slash I'm a tiny baby who does not like to be wet or cold), so...
4. Yin yoga - I don't have a lot of space for an at-home workout and my house is a creaky 90-year-old factory bungalow. Though I have access through my gym to all kinds of on-demand workouts, if I were to jump-squat in my front room, I'm fairly certain things would fall off the shelves in the furnace room at the back of the house. I'm also finding that since I'm not weight training and roller skating regularly (I am mainly sitting in my office chair wondering if I've done enough to keep my clients alive this week), I'm experiencing a lot effed up muscle cramps/pain. Enter yin yoga - gravity-aided stretching poses held for 3-5 minutes and nary a downward dog to be found. It is full of meditative bullshit, but it helps me sleep, so whatever about that.
5. Newsletters - I had already subscribed to two newsletters before all of this started. I read The Good Trade daily and Girls' Night In weekly. I read a few more now. Probably more than I can realistically consume in the time I have given, but there's always something inspiring or informative to read to reassure me (Girls' Night In), distract me (Big Spaceship Internet Brunch, Edith Zimmerman's Drawing Links), or let me know what's going on with the markets and politics south of the border/make me feel smug about being Canadian (Morning Brew).
5. Musical challenges - I've been working my way through sight-reading Handel's Messiah. I'm not good at it, but it's asking me to do things with my eyes and hands and brain that they haven't been asked to do in quite some time. So that's good. I'm also using an app to teach myself to play the guitar. I can play a mean E minor. And a fairly passable A major. Moving back and forth between the two is still very difficult. But focusing on challenging things that really don't matter very much since I'm not likely to be performing either Handel's Messiah or anything on the guitar for any sort of public anytime soon, it's good because the stakes are low. Which is different from the real challenges I'm facing at work.
6. Cooking - This has become something of an adventure because I make the grocery list but I do not get the groceries. I have a plan for weekend food, but sometimes what's available at the grocery store does not cooperate. Sometimes, I suggest to my husband that a fresh coconut will be a fine alternative to shredded coconut so he doesn't have to go to another store to find it. Sometimes, I find myself hammering open a coconut in my backyard at 9:30 a.m. on a Saturday, hoping I'm not bothering my neighbours. I made an elderflower jelly mold yesterday. And used a melon baller to scoop out a cooked beet. Who am I?
Anyway - just in case you were thinking that I've been spending my isolation days curled up in the fetal position breathing into a paper bag. I'm only doing that 5 days a week, and only metaphorically, anyway. The rest of my life is filled with self-made challenges to keep my mind off the work day paper bag. I hope you're dealing too, in whatever way you deal best.
Because my arm's reach work fills me with anxiety, here's how I'm spending my precious free time to let all that go.
1. To-Do Lists - I've been really good at these since time immemorial. I come up with things to do, many of which are recurring, and I do them. Checking things off lists is extremely satisfying to me, and since I made the list, there aren't too many completely odious tasks on it.
2. Baths - I decluttered the bathroom a few weeks ago. Though it did make me anxious to pitch all the various expired creams and analgesics I found in my cupboard (not to mention my husband - he's still going on about how I tossed his 10-year-old polysporin), I also located a number of smelly bath soaks and salts. I'm not good at just sitting, even though doing nothing is probably what I need right now, so I've been playing a 20-minute guided meditation while I'm in there. It gives me something to focus on while I'm soaking up all the aromatherapy.
3. Bike rides - or walks. But mostly bike rides because I find it's easier to socially distance when I'm on the road with the cars instead of on the sidewalk with people who don't seem to understand what's happening in the world. (Also, not getting myself needlessly worked up about those people because I can't control them...that's another way I'm trying to deal). Last year I pledged to ride 100 km in one month, which I did fairly handily. This year, I'm trying to double my previous month's mileage. Last month, I rode about 88 km, so this month my goal is 177 km. See? Checking things off lists is extremely satisfying. The weather lately has not been particularly cooperative about the bike rides lately (slash I'm a tiny baby who does not like to be wet or cold), so...
4. Yin yoga - I don't have a lot of space for an at-home workout and my house is a creaky 90-year-old factory bungalow. Though I have access through my gym to all kinds of on-demand workouts, if I were to jump-squat in my front room, I'm fairly certain things would fall off the shelves in the furnace room at the back of the house. I'm also finding that since I'm not weight training and roller skating regularly (I am mainly sitting in my office chair wondering if I've done enough to keep my clients alive this week), I'm experiencing a lot effed up muscle cramps/pain. Enter yin yoga - gravity-aided stretching poses held for 3-5 minutes and nary a downward dog to be found. It is full of meditative bullshit, but it helps me sleep, so whatever about that.
5. Newsletters - I had already subscribed to two newsletters before all of this started. I read The Good Trade daily and Girls' Night In weekly. I read a few more now. Probably more than I can realistically consume in the time I have given, but there's always something inspiring or informative to read to reassure me (Girls' Night In), distract me (Big Spaceship Internet Brunch, Edith Zimmerman's Drawing Links), or let me know what's going on with the markets and politics south of the border/make me feel smug about being Canadian (Morning Brew).
5. Musical challenges - I've been working my way through sight-reading Handel's Messiah. I'm not good at it, but it's asking me to do things with my eyes and hands and brain that they haven't been asked to do in quite some time. So that's good. I'm also using an app to teach myself to play the guitar. I can play a mean E minor. And a fairly passable A major. Moving back and forth between the two is still very difficult. But focusing on challenging things that really don't matter very much since I'm not likely to be performing either Handel's Messiah or anything on the guitar for any sort of public anytime soon, it's good because the stakes are low. Which is different from the real challenges I'm facing at work.
6. Cooking - This has become something of an adventure because I make the grocery list but I do not get the groceries. I have a plan for weekend food, but sometimes what's available at the grocery store does not cooperate. Sometimes, I suggest to my husband that a fresh coconut will be a fine alternative to shredded coconut so he doesn't have to go to another store to find it. Sometimes, I find myself hammering open a coconut in my backyard at 9:30 a.m. on a Saturday, hoping I'm not bothering my neighbours. I made an elderflower jelly mold yesterday. And used a melon baller to scoop out a cooked beet. Who am I?
Anyway - just in case you were thinking that I've been spending my isolation days curled up in the fetal position breathing into a paper bag. I'm only doing that 5 days a week, and only metaphorically, anyway. The rest of my life is filled with self-made challenges to keep my mind off the work day paper bag. I hope you're dealing too, in whatever way you deal best.
Thursday, April 30, 2020
Anxiety from the Comfort of Home
I'm going to keep this one short because I just haven't got it today.
Way back, five weeks ago, I remember admitting that I was actually kind of looking forward to some government-mandated do-nothing time. I thought I might finally have a minute to breathe. I am still employed, and I am childless, so an extended WFH should be a breeze, no?
Guys. I am not relaxed right now.
I have been pulling extra long days to get all my work done and I feel like my husband, who is home but not working, feels neglected and wishes that I wasn't spending so much time on work. He will correct me, and I appreciate that.
I have lost 20+ people I provide care to in the last month and though I know there was no way to prepare for this whole thing, I feel like it's partly because I wasn't prepared.
I have friends and family who want to have zoom calls with me and I really miss their faces but I have had literally one or more video conference calls (three today) or meetings every day to learn something new or to fix something I can't fix in person and I have nothing left for those people at the end of the day.
Last week I got a note from my corporate contact letting me know my work supporting front-line workers was noticed and appreciated, and I honestly couldn't think what I had done for her to give me that feedback. It was nice, but I also feel a little like I'm going to be found out somehow.
Anyway, that's how I feel. Like an impostor. Anxious. Not rested. I'm sure I'm not alone.
Way back, five weeks ago, I remember admitting that I was actually kind of looking forward to some government-mandated do-nothing time. I thought I might finally have a minute to breathe. I am still employed, and I am childless, so an extended WFH should be a breeze, no?
Guys. I am not relaxed right now.
I have been pulling extra long days to get all my work done and I feel like my husband, who is home but not working, feels neglected and wishes that I wasn't spending so much time on work. He will correct me, and I appreciate that.
I have lost 20+ people I provide care to in the last month and though I know there was no way to prepare for this whole thing, I feel like it's partly because I wasn't prepared.
I have friends and family who want to have zoom calls with me and I really miss their faces but I have had literally one or more video conference calls (three today) or meetings every day to learn something new or to fix something I can't fix in person and I have nothing left for those people at the end of the day.
Last week I got a note from my corporate contact letting me know my work supporting front-line workers was noticed and appreciated, and I honestly couldn't think what I had done for her to give me that feedback. It was nice, but I also feel a little like I'm going to be found out somehow.
Anyway, that's how I feel. Like an impostor. Anxious. Not rested. I'm sure I'm not alone.
Saturday, April 18, 2020
Stages in the Storm
The last time I wrote something here I wasn't in a good place.
COVID-19 had taken hold in two of the long-term care homes I service, and as the Ontario Premier described, it spread like wildfire. I was working a lot - to the point of overwork. And even though I was feeling overworked, I had an overwhelming feeling of guilt because I still felt like I wasn't doing enough because at least my overwork was happening from the comfort and safety of home.
Early on in the week, I read this article. It's a comforting read. I recommend it.
I've been having weekly meetings with my contract companies about what we know about how to provide nutrition care to people affected by COVID-19, how our practice is changing and how to manage new directives coming from the Ministry of Health in the wake of a worldwide emergency.
I know, and have always known, this about myself: I like a plan.
My family would take a trip to visit our East Coast relatives every summer. My mother would sometimes give me the provincial tourism book so I could daydream about what adventures we might have on our trip. The end result would typically be that I had itinerized our entire trip with tourist traps, cultural festivals and local oddities. My parents always had a much more low-key idea about how our trip would go. There would generally be a meltdown at some point.
I've seen this meme floating around the internet lately that says "We're all in the same boat. We're not all in the same storm."
Years of disappointment about my abandoned clipboard of fun taught me to lower my expectations about how much I can fit into a day or a week. Despite that, my need for a plan...any plan...has not wavered. I do not like changing the plan. Our collective response to our planetary crisis has required by-the-minute modifications to how we, as a population, as a community, and as a profession, manage our lives. At the same time, the people collaborating on those plans are being pulled in so many different directions. Engaging people who are busier than they ever signed up to be in making new plans is really difficult. That is my storm. Ever-evolving plans make me incredibly anxious. Creating contingencies with missing information or without input from key players puts me in a state of panic. Like I have to put a puzzle together to save my life or someone else's, but I know from the beginning that there are pieces missing.
After a videoconference meeting this week, I finally sent an email to one of my contract administrators expressing my anxiety. I was nervous. I don't like exposing myself and my vulnerabilities like that. (I can broadcast them on the internet, but not in an email to one person...lol...). The act of writing what's bothering me and sending it to someone was actually incredibly freeing. It helped that she was understanding of my opinion and was reassuring. We need more of that these days. But in that moment I had achieved acceptance of the grief I was feeling. And that was good.
I've been here before. Grieving. I know it's not a set of stairs I can run up, Rocky-style, and be done with it. But I know I can remember those moments of acceptance and know that over time (a long time, it seems) there will be more moments of acceptance than anger or anxiety or sadness. I'm trying to look forward to that new normal.
Wednesday, April 8, 2020
A Big Steaming Pile...
This week has not been my best.
Isolation is starting to wear me down. The last time I was outside was Monday and tomorrow's not really looking good for fresh air either.
Somehow, my right hip stopped working and now it's in constant pain. Slept funny, maybe. Who knows anymore.
Two of my three homes have positive COVID-19 cases and though I'm not on the front-lines there's lots of work to be done. The paradox of this whole situation is that even though I can literally see the places I relax ALL DAY, I'm working much more than normal and can't actually spend the time relaxing. I've been pulling extra long days and as things get hairy onsite, I'll be doing more to take as much load off my colleagues on the floor as I can. They're...appreciative...I think. To be honest, when I call the evening RN with my orders, the reception I get is not exactly warm. I try to remember that what I'm doing right now seems pretty cushy in comparison to what they're doing and keep the smile plastered to my face, but the smile's starting to crack at the corners.
Everyone I know is struggling and my default response is to try and find a solution, but I'm tired and there are no solutions except to dig in and bear it. This too shall pass.
But when?
Seriously, when?
Isolation is starting to wear me down. The last time I was outside was Monday and tomorrow's not really looking good for fresh air either.
Somehow, my right hip stopped working and now it's in constant pain. Slept funny, maybe. Who knows anymore.
Two of my three homes have positive COVID-19 cases and though I'm not on the front-lines there's lots of work to be done. The paradox of this whole situation is that even though I can literally see the places I relax ALL DAY, I'm working much more than normal and can't actually spend the time relaxing. I've been pulling extra long days and as things get hairy onsite, I'll be doing more to take as much load off my colleagues on the floor as I can. They're...appreciative...I think. To be honest, when I call the evening RN with my orders, the reception I get is not exactly warm. I try to remember that what I'm doing right now seems pretty cushy in comparison to what they're doing and keep the smile plastered to my face, but the smile's starting to crack at the corners.
Everyone I know is struggling and my default response is to try and find a solution, but I'm tired and there are no solutions except to dig in and bear it. This too shall pass.
But when?
Seriously, when?
Saturday, March 28, 2020
Isolation Station
The journey continues.
This week, the Ministry of Health and the College of Dietitians threw more policy down the pipe and now I'm working from home unless something specific calls me into the LTC homes where I work. The idea is to reduce transmission of the virus from home to home, and since I work in three, this makes sense. It does bring up a bunch of ethical considerations regarding what constitutes essential on-site nutrition care and I'm definitely struggling with that. I do feel better knowing I'm not going in and using up valuable PPE so the nursing staff can give the best care, but I'm also concerned that my residents are not getting the best care from me right now.
That's a whole ball of wax. I've had at least 2 video conference calls per week teasing out what it means and I don't want to spend more time on it here, but it's on my mind, so I mention it.
In the meantime, I have been trying to maintain some level of not-going-crazy in the 1000 sq. feet that I share with my husband. Here's how:
1. I get dressed for work every day. Even though I'm not going anywhere. I change into lounge clothes when I'm done. It helps me to distinguish between work time and home time. Also, it means that if I do have to go in, I'm already dressed.
2. Staying in contact. I've been keeping in touch with friends and family a little more than I had been pre-COVID-19. I'm happy to know they're safe and we commiserate about what's hard about this and what we're hopeful about. It's nice and I should have been doing more of it.
3. Staying active. Right now I'm finding that the weather is beautiful all morning and garbage at right around the time I'm clocking off, and this one would be easier if I could get on my bike and ride without getting pneumonia...but I'm trying to get moving regularly. My gym is closed, but my trainer sent me at-home workouts which I've been doing. I'm still finding that my joints are starting to feel sore, probably from underuse, and I need to focus more on this.
4. Deleting Facebook from my phone. I had been toying with dropping FB from my life altogether, but too many groups I'm part of use FB to communicate, including my family. I disabled the app on my phone, which means I can still use messenger to communicate with people, but I'm not finding myself scrolling through the multiple graphs showing the totally disheartening case-doubling rates of my province, my country and our neighbour to the south, and I'm not doing deep-dives in my friends' comments and getting into flame wars with people I don't really know about whatever it is I disagree with. I log on once or twice throughout the day from my laptop or desktop, but that's it and I feel better about it.
5. Online scrabble. My family and I have been playing Lexulous. This has been good because I have to focus on something very concrete - making the letters I have fit into the letters that are on the board. I'm historically terrible at this game even though I have a fairly extensive vocabulary. I remember a friend inviting me over to play scrabble and pulling out all his best stops because he thought I'd be really good. He skunked me. Anyway....it's also been good because I'm actually better at it than I remember (or my opponents are taking it easy on me...either way...), and that makes me feel good about something.
Still and all, I'm walking a fine line with my mental health. I'm actually finding weekends harder because there's less structure to the day and my mind wanders to places it maybe shouldn't go right now. I'm watching a lot more TV than I normally would and I'm not so proud of that. Most of what I'm reading is suggesting we've got another month or more of this, so digging in to what's working and getting rid f what's not is going to be extremely important.
I hope everyone's coping. I would be really interested to hear what's working for you.
This week, the Ministry of Health and the College of Dietitians threw more policy down the pipe and now I'm working from home unless something specific calls me into the LTC homes where I work. The idea is to reduce transmission of the virus from home to home, and since I work in three, this makes sense. It does bring up a bunch of ethical considerations regarding what constitutes essential on-site nutrition care and I'm definitely struggling with that. I do feel better knowing I'm not going in and using up valuable PPE so the nursing staff can give the best care, but I'm also concerned that my residents are not getting the best care from me right now.
That's a whole ball of wax. I've had at least 2 video conference calls per week teasing out what it means and I don't want to spend more time on it here, but it's on my mind, so I mention it.
In the meantime, I have been trying to maintain some level of not-going-crazy in the 1000 sq. feet that I share with my husband. Here's how:
1. I get dressed for work every day. Even though I'm not going anywhere. I change into lounge clothes when I'm done. It helps me to distinguish between work time and home time. Also, it means that if I do have to go in, I'm already dressed.
2. Staying in contact. I've been keeping in touch with friends and family a little more than I had been pre-COVID-19. I'm happy to know they're safe and we commiserate about what's hard about this and what we're hopeful about. It's nice and I should have been doing more of it.
3. Staying active. Right now I'm finding that the weather is beautiful all morning and garbage at right around the time I'm clocking off, and this one would be easier if I could get on my bike and ride without getting pneumonia...but I'm trying to get moving regularly. My gym is closed, but my trainer sent me at-home workouts which I've been doing. I'm still finding that my joints are starting to feel sore, probably from underuse, and I need to focus more on this.
4. Deleting Facebook from my phone. I had been toying with dropping FB from my life altogether, but too many groups I'm part of use FB to communicate, including my family. I disabled the app on my phone, which means I can still use messenger to communicate with people, but I'm not finding myself scrolling through the multiple graphs showing the totally disheartening case-doubling rates of my province, my country and our neighbour to the south, and I'm not doing deep-dives in my friends' comments and getting into flame wars with people I don't really know about whatever it is I disagree with. I log on once or twice throughout the day from my laptop or desktop, but that's it and I feel better about it.
5. Online scrabble. My family and I have been playing Lexulous. This has been good because I have to focus on something very concrete - making the letters I have fit into the letters that are on the board. I'm historically terrible at this game even though I have a fairly extensive vocabulary. I remember a friend inviting me over to play scrabble and pulling out all his best stops because he thought I'd be really good. He skunked me. Anyway....it's also been good because I'm actually better at it than I remember (or my opponents are taking it easy on me...either way...), and that makes me feel good about something.
Still and all, I'm walking a fine line with my mental health. I'm actually finding weekends harder because there's less structure to the day and my mind wanders to places it maybe shouldn't go right now. I'm watching a lot more TV than I normally would and I'm not so proud of that. Most of what I'm reading is suggesting we've got another month or more of this, so digging in to what's working and getting rid f what's not is going to be extremely important.
I hope everyone's coping. I would be really interested to hear what's working for you.
Tuesday, March 17, 2020
The One with COVID-19
These are strange times, friends.
And I'm in a strange spot. I'm a healthcare worker, but not a frontline healthcare worker. I have contact with a vulnerable population, but not *intimate* contact. One of my employers has asked me to work remotely. The other two have decided that I'm an essential service. I'm confused about what that means.
Every once in a while I get that strange feeling that what's happening around me is happening, on a greater or smaller scale, to every single other person around the world and then I feel very small. Because nothing that's happening to me is special, except everything that's happening to everyone right now is special.
I don't have any cool advice on how to deal. Part of me was feeling a little overwhelmed with life and is a teensy bit relieved to have government-mandated stop-everything-you're-doing-and-stay-the-fuck-home time. I recognize that feeling has a lot to do with the level of privilege I enjoy. I own a functioning bicycle and have access to all kinds of streaming workouts. I have a fairly large stockpile of food in my cupboards and freezer, although some of it is a little...unconventional (anybody need a box of cocoa nibs? I have three. Will trade for dry pasta or eggs). My yarn and fabric stashes have been calling my name for *years*. The internet/cellphone waves keep me in touch with my loved ones far and wide. And let's not forget the famed movie list. I'm crossing things off of that baby like crazy.
The takehome here is that I'm probably going to be fine. But I have worries. I have people who are maybe not going to be fine. The fact that the various curves I keep refreshing on various public health-ish websites could go either way still makes me worried. I'm terrified that someone's going to sneeze on my coat at the grocery store and I'm going to be partially responsible for flattening a whole floor of octagenarians because my service was deemed essential. Everything is cancelled or closed "until further notice" and the lack of expiry date on this thing makes me hyperventilate a little.
I still don't have any cool advice on how to deal. Everything is normal and abnormal at the same time. Shit's weird. Everybody shits.
And I'm in a strange spot. I'm a healthcare worker, but not a frontline healthcare worker. I have contact with a vulnerable population, but not *intimate* contact. One of my employers has asked me to work remotely. The other two have decided that I'm an essential service. I'm confused about what that means.
Every once in a while I get that strange feeling that what's happening around me is happening, on a greater or smaller scale, to every single other person around the world and then I feel very small. Because nothing that's happening to me is special, except everything that's happening to everyone right now is special.
I don't have any cool advice on how to deal. Part of me was feeling a little overwhelmed with life and is a teensy bit relieved to have government-mandated stop-everything-you're-doing-and-stay-the-fuck-home time. I recognize that feeling has a lot to do with the level of privilege I enjoy. I own a functioning bicycle and have access to all kinds of streaming workouts. I have a fairly large stockpile of food in my cupboards and freezer, although some of it is a little...unconventional (anybody need a box of cocoa nibs? I have three. Will trade for dry pasta or eggs). My yarn and fabric stashes have been calling my name for *years*. The internet/cellphone waves keep me in touch with my loved ones far and wide. And let's not forget the famed movie list. I'm crossing things off of that baby like crazy.
The takehome here is that I'm probably going to be fine. But I have worries. I have people who are maybe not going to be fine. The fact that the various curves I keep refreshing on various public health-ish websites could go either way still makes me worried. I'm terrified that someone's going to sneeze on my coat at the grocery store and I'm going to be partially responsible for flattening a whole floor of octagenarians because my service was deemed essential. Everything is cancelled or closed "until further notice" and the lack of expiry date on this thing makes me hyperventilate a little.
I still don't have any cool advice on how to deal. Everything is normal and abnormal at the same time. Shit's weird. Everybody shits.
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