Skip to main content

I Thought I'd Be Better at This Quarantine Thing

Okay, so we're not really in quarantine. In southwest Florida, we're all living under a suggestion to stay off the beaches. Apparently, grocery stores and gas stations are the acceptable gathering places, and I feel like I'm living in central Florida in the 90s all over again when Walmart was the place to be after the bars closed. Because, you know the bars are closed here too.

In all fairness, I'm living my dream right now. I'm able to work from home, and I like the flexibility it gives me to balance this work and home life thing. I seriously could get used to this. I like having bites of time in which to complete the small tasks that all too often gang up on me. I feel like I'm doing a better job keeping up with it all.

My early morning routine is fairly established. I get up and take the dogs out. While they eat I fill a bucket with some water and toss a handful of clothes in a galvanized steel bucket and let them soak for a few hours. I get myself ready for the day (a process that involves washing my face and slathering it with whatever anti-aging potion I'm trying). Then coffee and work.

I'm still working on the afternoon and evening routines, but I'd like to squeeze some housework and exercise into them. I'll report back on the progress.

For now, I'm working remotely and trying to stay out of the grocery stores. Unfortunately, I'm down to two rolls of paper towels and God only knows when the paper good vultures will calm down enough to let the stock refill. We have enough water, food and dog food to get us through the next two weeks. I have a paycheck coming on Friday, and I'm grateful for that even though I'm back to juggling which bills to pay since my night job is also in quarantine.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Pardon the Interruption

It's 10:00. My race clothes are laying across the top of the dog crate. I've already consumed my all-natural sleep aid. The alarm is set for 4:45 in the morning. I should be sleeping, but my mind is spinning at an unnatural rate. Remember this poem ? The subject of that poem married just a few weeks ago, and I just finished looking through his wedding photos. It's a strange feeling. Not one of loss. Or Regret. Or even wistfulness. I'm thoroughly happy for both of them in a way that will seriously not make sense to most of the people I know. I suppose there will always be an odd sense of knowing in a situation like this. I know the feel of those lips. I've seen that look in his eyes. What I felt for him was real and pure and drives the feeling of satisfaction that is currently overwhelming me. I love knowing that he's in love--even if it's not with me. I even saved my favorite photo to my computer because the image stirred something in me that needs to be sti...

On Muchness

A dear friend confessed to me last night that he had lost his muchness and found it again. I confessed the same and even admitted the ridiculous series of events that recently sapped my own muchness. That little confession seemed to do wonders. It's so easy to fall out of step with myself. In fact, I do it quite naturally. Growing up in a Christian home, I took to heart the instructions to love my neighbor more than I love myself. Oh, wait! I just checked the scripture. "Love your neighbor as yourself." I may have been doing this the wrong way. I ended 2010 with the resolution that I would no longer make decisions out of fear. I am starting 2011 with the resolution to make decisions based on what I want. I've struggled with this because I've always believed that I should consider the needs and wants of others before my own. I'd like to think this is a valiant approach, but the truth is that it only leads to martyrdom...and I don't think I was given the opp...

TMI and Tidal Waves

As usual, it's been a busy week around these parts, and none of my activities this week involved running. If my grandmother could hear at the moment and complete a sentence without hacking up a lung, she'd ask me what's wrong. I'd have to confess that my eczema has flared up in this oh-so-cold-there's-ice-on-my-car south Florida weather, and my skin is so itchy that I have bruises up and down my limbs from all the scratching I've been doing. There are some days I'm relieved to know men with calloused hands. (Before you take that last comment too seriously, remind yourself that I am writing this at 9:30 on a Friday night.) Anyway... I met up for coffee with someone last night who proved to stoke my creative juices. I'll spare you the details of the conversation, but I did have to stop him mid sentence to point out that that particular conversation will most definitely become part of "La Isla Encontrada." Fortunately, he agreed to it, and I fully...