Sunday during a pandemic. I slept. This was not my finest moment, I'll be the first to admit that. It has been a little stressful, so lying for hours with cats next to me felt really good.
I rarely stay home. That has been my way of life since I graduated high school. I go out; I roam streets and stores and hang out in coffee shops watching people. I had a stint in which I hung out in bars far more than I should. Even if I'm not with anybody, I'm usually out and about.
A logical person would be writing more, since I'm stuck home anyway. I could be painting. Or, I could spend the day in my bed trying to be unconscious until this passes. I still go into the office to work, though, so even that is not an option. But still I sleep.
On Saturday I had gone into the office for a bit. When I left, I stopped by the grocery store to pick up vitamins that I had run out of. As I walked up to the building I saw a sign indicating that the line to enter the store started over to the left. Fortunately there wasn't actually a line and I was able to walk right in. An employee was stationed by the door wiping down carts for people. The lady in front of me was wearing a mask that covered most of her face. As I walked around the store I felt the weight of the situation. Everybody looking at each other, everybody knowing that there is a pandemic going on. I posted on Twitter earlier this week.
We're all just sitting around, not going out, looking at seemingly healthy people try to go about their lives, waiting for the virus to hit. Looking at news from Italy. Looking at each other in the stores. Waiting. Waiting for it to hit, or to end.
— 𝓡𝓪𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻 𝓔𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓮𝓼𝓽 𝓟𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓻 (@RatherEarnest) March 19, 2020
I could barely keep from crying while I was in the store. Then I told myself to snap out of it, because if I cried my nose would start running and that's the last thing I needed. I got to the register with my blood builder supplements and saw signs on the floor requesting that people respect social distancing. Pictures of footprints on the sign indicate where we stand, one away from the register, one right at the edge, where the conveyor belt starts. The cashiers had clear plastic between them and the customers, just a square of plastic propped up between their faces. When the cashier was ringing up my purchases I could feel tears coming in spite of my better judgement. They were cheerful enough, though. She smiled and told me to have a great afternoon. God bless these people. Imagine the food shortage and riots if the grocery stores couldn't open because the employees wouldn't go in. They are some of the most exposed people in society right now. I haven't seen even one of them use a face mask.
Leaving the store I stopped by Brentwood Social House for a cup of coffee. There is very little I love more than sitting in a coffee shop, sipping coffee and watching people. Of course I wasn't able to do that, but I did want to support them. So I got a latte to go. Again, as I was waiting I couldn't stop the tears, and they didn't have any napkins out for me to wipe my nose with. They were as laid back as they could be and cheerful. I seemed to be the only one affected.
I suppose at work I'm like them. We are considered essential, so we still have to go in. I encourage people at work. I try to calm my coworkers' nerves. We're going to be fine. We'll get through this. We work, we chat with each other, we walk around the building to get exercise. I do everything I can to make it a pleasant experience. And then I walk out into the world and I can't stop crying.
A young lady I follow on Twitter revealed a few weeks ago that she lives in Northern Italy. They have been on lock-down since February 21. (On March 10 the entire country of Italy came under lock-down.) This young lady has been giving updates fairly regularly. When she first mentioned that she was part of it, she mentioned that it was surprisingly boring. It's international news, but for the people affected who were just hanging out at home, it was not particularly exciting. In time she began to give details of what was happening outside her home. Police would stop people to ask if they really needed to be out. Then, police began giving fines to people outside without a valid reason. Then the quarantine was extended indefinitely and the military was being called in to enforce it. She told us about a man who was running for exercise and he sprained his ankle. He waited in the ER to be seen, only to test positive for COVID-19, meaning that everybody in the waiting room was exposed. She was angry that all of those people were exposed simply because that man couldn't exercise at home. She's frustrated that the quarantine was extended seemingly because people wouldn't abide by the rules.
For me, the worst came when I had to talk to my mother about her upcoming surgery. Normally I would go stay with her for a few days while she recovered. This time it would be a very bad idea for me to go. That's a hard pill to swallow. I never thought I'd have to face a reality in which I am a physical danger to my mother. I mean, I'm not. We don't know. But it is the most basic of caution to not go there. My sisters are already there with her and they can take care of her. But, it's also the most basic of part of human nature, to want to take care of your mother. All the logic and caution in the world won't lessen the hurt.
On March 16, Bastrop County, where I live, issued a disaster declaration. On Tuesday, March 17 the City of Austin banned gathering and dine-in restaurants. (Take out was still permitted.) On Thursday, March 19 Dr. Hellerstedt, the Commissioner of the Department of State Health Services, issued a Declaration of a Public Health Disaster in the State of Texas. At the same time Governor Abbott issued and Executive Order banning gatherings, shutting down restaurants, bars, schools across Texas. Today Travis County issued a Shelter in Place Order. (No longer just a suggestion.) It's changing daily.
And still we go on. I feel horrible at a store or drive-through because it seems callous of me to breathe on them, even though I'm standing at a reasonable distance and this behavior has been okayed by all of the declarations and orders. I've never been so conscious of my breath, and it's not in a good way. It feels like it should hurt to breathe, like there's a disease in the air and we're breathing it in and there's nothing we can do about it. We're just waiting for the disease to hit our communities and for all of us to be morbidly sick.
Looking at China, Italy and New York City makes me think of a line in a book by Zora Neale Hurston. Toward the end of the novel a hurricane comes and tosses the people about. They take shelter in fear; they wonder if God is angry at them. Their eyes strain to see in the storm. "They seemed to be staring at the dark, but their eyes were watching God."