Crabby (with Covid)
The Man brought home an extra special souvenir from his last work trip. That’s right: coronavirus. It’s fun for the whole family! Next time, we would prefer the traditional fridge magnet, even if the current house’s fridge is only magnetic on one side.
I spent my first four days of isolation reading. I’m sure this comes as a surprise to no one. The problem with being sick at home when you usually work at home is that it’s really hard to turn off and rest. If I try to nap, I lie there and think about all the things that I should be doing instead: school with the kids, mopping the floor, keeping up on laundry, cleaning up the cat barf under the guest bed, etc. The only solution for me is to read myself out of the house entirely. So I’ve spent the last few days in England while my body rests.
Today, though, I felt like enough was enough. So I made pancakes for the kids. And that really was enough. So I spent the next three hours sitting in my brown chair watching the rain and reading myself back to England again. Cornwall, to be precise. Then I really dug deep and took a shower and put on actual clothes. Well, my stay-at-home jeans (that are no longer capable of being worn in public because they are, well, worn and not in stylish places) and my cat face Don’t Stress Meowt t-shirt as a not so subtle message to Covid. I even cut my fingernails, which means I was totally justified in getting back in bed and eating soup and feeling virtuous by writing on the blog.
Here’s the thing about Covid. It makes me very dizzy. So if this post makes zero sense, I just need you to know that I needed to do something that made me feel good about myself. And while reading a dozen novels back to back to back was necessary for the healing process, it didn’t really make me feel like a productive member of society.
Also, before you channel your inner The Man and ask why I can’t just rest like a normal person because (spoiler alert) I have Covid, the answer is that I know I have problems, okay? Just let me be neurotic!
When I posted this picture of Twinkles on Instagram, a friend said it was giving off “Dust Bowl mom exhausted after waiting in the bread line with her baby” vibes. And she wasn’t wrong.
Anyway, here we are. Bee held out the longest but has finally succumbed, by which I mean she’s admitted that she has a sore throat and her eyes are pink, but she insists on life as normal, whereas Littles and Tiny have taken up permanent residence on the couch and are busy writing their wills and death bed confessions. Kidding. Mostly. Tiny is actually on the mend and has joined the three youngest in their continued quest to trash the home and make the Man’s semi-permanent Covid headache worse by bouncing off as many walls as they can find available in this home. And let me tell you, there are a lot of walls because this sucker used to be a duplex before they turned it into a single family home. As to the Man, if he’s not on his work computer, I’ve started checking to make sure he’s still breathing as he’s out cold. We’ve been married almost fifteen years, and I’ve never seen him sleep this much. In his defense, he’s never had Covid before though. And he held out for a long time. Three years and four months, to be precise.
What’s keeping us going:
Josh’s squadron people dropped off a few things for us yesterday including a ridiculous amount of gatorade, a bouquet of flowers that I’m carrying around the house ala Meg Ryan in You’ve Got Mail, several tubs of soup, and more Kleenex than we’ll be able to go through before the next time we move.
Rainy weather. Somehow it makes everything more tolerable.
Acknowledging the fact that we’re all crabby with each other, and that one day there will be an end. AND EVERYBODY STILL LOVES EVERYBODY. But stop touching me, please.
Tea. Hot baths. Cozy blankets.
That somehow we didn’t pass this on to the overnight guests we had on Friday.
National Geographic documentaries.
Self-mockery.
Oh, yeah, and light weight novels set in England. I think I’ve said that one before.
Anyway, here we go. I get a checkmark for today for doing actual writing work. Ish. I mean, it’s not another query sent out, but would that really be a good call in my current state? I’m just saying: the Man tried to order a flag holder this week, and that was a mistake. Pretty much anything that requires measuring, critical thinking, or rational thought should not be attempted in the throes of Covid. But obviously, updating the blog doesn’t fall in those categories.
On that note, back to England I go! It’s been two whole hours since I finished the last novel.
