I was hit by a severe attack of ennui this weekend. Suddenly the days (empty ones) ahead seemed like an eternity, so why do anything? Restless, bored, itching from bug bites acquired in last week's yard work frenzy, I couldn't do much but bark at the hubs and just be a general Debbie Downer.
In addition to the fact that just sitting around gives me a backache, that kind of doing nothing causes some depression on my part, and I know myself well enough to recognize it and try to do something about it.
So here I am, writing again.
Saturday we tried to help out a favorite restaurant by picking up lunch. Getting in the car and driving a mile or so was nice, lunch was nice, and it did break up the day. In the late afternoon/early evening, a long phone chat with No. 2 son was a treat, as was his assurance that he and his wife are practicing safe practices in their jobs as radiology techs. Worry about them is constant, and I try to keep it on simmer.
Sunday the lethargy was worse. I could see the clock approaching noon and I was still reading the (pretty slim) newspaper. In the afternoon, our neighbor had a gathering in her back yard for the ladies on the block, and that was a welcome break in the monotony. The good news is that all of us are still healthy. Not surprisingly, no one had any great suggestions for fun quarantine activities. I've got to get cracking on this and figure out how to stop whining and get on with it.
A phone conversation with No. 1 son was a help. At least we don't have small children to manage; he and our grandchildren's mom are doing what they can, but it's a slog. Another worry: Allison, his ex, begins a new job on Monday as an LPN in a cancer treatment center. Threats abound. Our children and their loved ones are at heightened risk.
Here's the hard thing: we can't do anything. In fact, we are told that what we should do is exactly that - nothing. This is so not-me.
I will put this idea down in this space as I'm not sure anyone would be willing to entertain it, so haven't even tried to talk about it. Wouldn't a good response to this emergency be to sequester the high-risk folks (elderly, immuno-compromised, pregnant, whoever) and perhaps allow the rest of the country to attempt to keep the economy afloat? I worry that once people run out of money, things are going to get really ugly. You will do a lot of awful things when you are hungry, or when your children are. I don't have much confidence in the heroic tendencies of the desperate. A high death toll might not be the worst fate we could suffer. And I say this as an old person, with an older person living in my home. People need to work. People need money to live. People who produce food for us need a market to sell it in and customers to buy it. Is this just too dystopian to contemplate?
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