And this time I’m not just blaming it on the fact that I can never remember any of my passwords, including for this blog.
For the past two weeks, we all know that the world has almost come to a total pause as we social distance and quarantine ourselves in the name of flattening the curve. Kids are home from school, all but essential workers are working from home, restaurants and bars are shut down. Quite the appropriate time to start reading Station Eleven.
As an introvert, I joke that quarantine isn’t much different than what my daily life looked like before the coronapocalypse of 2020. But it feels different when everyone else is in the same situation. As tough as these days have been, I think it’s forcing us to reckon with what we do with ourselves when we don’t have as many distractions, when we don’t have places to go. Maybe God or the universe or (gasp) aliens are making us take a good long look at ourselves.
It’s made us get more creative about how we connect. I’ve made more FaceTime calls and video chats over the past week, both for my online graduate school classes and for fun chats with friends, than I have in my whole life.
And I’ve been learning that more forced time at home doesn’t have to mean more productivity. I thought I would spend every free moment working on my book, but it’s hard to focus in these challenging times, especially when there’s no clear division between work time and chill time. Or, you know, apocalypse-anxiety time.
One of the scariest things about the pandemic is we don’t know how long it will last. My hope for all of you is that not only do you and your loved ones stay healthy, but that you emerge from these seriously weird days with a renewed understanding of what it means to connect even if we have to be apart.
Sending love, and poems.