The Lockdown Lowdown
First, I stopped wearing my watch. Why not? I was home all day. I have a grandmother clock that bongs, I have clocks on my stove, TV, DVD player, laptop, and phone. Then, I stopped wearing shoes. I keep a pair handy, but mostly I’m in socks and slippers.
COVID-19 is turning my life into a modern-day version of LORD OF THE FLIES. The conventions I took for granted, and obeyed without question, are now suspect. And a little annoying. The thought of applying makeup seems a bridge too far.
Haircuts? Who needs ‘em? I do the occasional bang trim. I still want to see. At first, I was trying to trim the rest, but why?
I’m a little worried about what will go next, but excited at the same time. Shopping, dining out, and meeting friends for coffee resemble activities from another planet. Formerly an absolute Peet’s addict, I haven’t had a medium Macha Javiva with whipped cream since March. I don’t even know if the app on my phone still works.
I’m taking behavioral clues from my cats. Sleep—I looked it up— burns calories. I’ve become a professional napper. Which reminds me of another construct that is out the window. Bedtime. What the heck is that? I’ll read until 4:00 am, sleep until noon or 8 am, whichever works. Taking an hour nap after the evening torture known as “the news” is part of my trauma relief therapy.
So far, my clothes still match, and I do put on earrings because I like ‘em, not to look chic. I’m curious what comes (or goes) next. Underwear? Bra? Deodorant? Pants? After all, I only exist on Zoom from the waist up.
I’m hoping for a slow reopening. I can’t imagine putting all the pieces of normalcy back together in one day.
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