3/20/2020. My C-19 (Day) #4—since I didn’t isolate until Tuesday. We’ll each deal with this particular foe a little differently but, for me at least, figuring out a “normal” weekly plan feels important. Perhaps all will be well in a few weeks, perhaps a few months. Waking up a 5am to check the number of new coronavirus cases in New Mexico is not the way to get through whatever time it takes! What is the way though? What’s my new normal?
How many times have I declared myself a writer with too little time to actually write? Many, many. Now there is time. Saying ‘Just do it then’ to myself isn’t quite pushing me toward my desk however. It’s not exactly depression keeping me away, not exactly the last season of “Homeland,” not exactly fear or loneliness for the ‘old days’ before C-19. For now let’s say it’s confusion about how to live in forced semi-isolation as opposed to choosing to be a brilliant but moody (perhaps alcoholic) writer in a remote cabin in the deep dark forest (waiting for Kathy Bates to appear with a sledgehammer…).
A plan then…I must have a plan. Like Elizabeth I am never short of plans, so what this really means is living according to one or more of them.
So there you have it…mornings all planned.
Sun is creeping up over the Sandias. Isn’t the hope that warm weather will kill off Covid-19 like it does with other flu viruses? In which case I’ll welcome the glaring New Mexican sun. But if that’s true, why is the virus just now beginning to blossom on the continent of Africa where in the far south it’s preparing for winter and along the equator temps change little year round?
Time for the noontime plan to be designed.