Three weeks ago I made a list of errands to run the next day.  John had a busy work day, and we’d already been to the hospital for my monthly Tysabri infusion.  The errands weren’t important, just little ‘to do’ things I wanted to clear off the list and I didn’t want to spend our Friday night doing chores.  It could wait.

Saturday morning dawned clear, crisp and sunny.  The world felt strange — virus news was coming in fits and starts, some information more reliable than others.  Schools had been shut the day before for two weeks.  We were supposed to social distance.  None of it felt suddenly immediate.  J+I had already stocked up the fridge and freezer.  We’d done ‘the things.’

We went to UPS and mailed an Amazon return.  We went to CVS to grab prescriptions and deodorant.  Even CVS was devoid of basic necessities — no milk, no butter.  How, I wondered to myself, could I buy oreos if there was no milk?

That thought seems ludicrous today.  Also — why was I so blasé in my actions — why did I go to two stores in quick succession without hand sanitizer?  What was I thinking?!?

It’s pretty grounding to consider how much has changed in such a short amount of time.  By that Monday following our errands, our county in PA had been issued ‘stay at home’ orders for two weeks.  Everything was being cancelled. Businesses were closing their doors.  Zoom was becoming the most popular thing … in the world.

Now we’re at ‘shelter in place’ until the end of April.  I have an appointment with my neurologist via Zoom on Monday, and I’m doing yoga teacher training virtually.  It all feels … odd.  And a bit uncomfortable.  Like hammering square pegs into round holes just because we don’t know what else to do.

I’m overcome daily with gratitude.  My husband and I were built for crisis’ like this.  We’re homebodies, introverts; people who work from home, enjoy each other’s company, and love our Peloton and having conversations over dinner.  These blessings are not lost on me.  I think about them when I fall asleep and when our day begins … every single night and every single morning.

I have become acutely aware of the running monologue in my head —  my thoughts, observations, worries …. And I knew that I needed to write because writing has always been my outlet.  So I’m back here, clicking the keys, writing down my stream-of-conscious thoughts.

Because COVID-19 is real.  And it’s changed our lives.  And things might never be the same.   …  But maybe, they’ll be better?

xox, g