Seventeen days since our retreat from the world began. Or at least 17 days that I have been writing this blog stream. I should have looked at the March page of the refrigerator calendar before I tossed it into the paper recycling. What did I do in the days leading up to March 16? Being an introvert, I likely did not do much. My ventures outside the now-hermitage-then-residence were more errands than social. I got my hair cut on March 13; I got nails done the day before that. I visited my mother on Wednesdays and Sundays when I picked up or dropped off her laundry. I saw my trainer on Mondays and Wednesdays. I guess the visits with my mom would count as social even with laundry as the errand component. The husband and I were scheduled for a social trip to lunch and a play on March 15. We'd already discussed cancelling that with the other couple going, and then the play was cancelled. That was the weekend that started the stay-at-home, don't potentially expose others especially the at-risk others mentality.
It's April 1 aka April Fools' Day. When will someone let us know that the pandemic has just been a long trick from a deity with a wicked sense of humor. "April Fools' Day, world population! Now get back to work!" The president said to continue social distancing precautions at least until April 30. The governor set June 10, some 71 days from now, as the endpoint. How many people might have killed their partner by then? Almost 90 days of enforced workday cohabitation might drive even an extrovert to homicide.
Being told not to go out into the world is heaven for us introverts. Being told to shelter in place with another person, even a beloved one, isn't, especially if that person is an extrovert who relishes the increased contact. Sheltering in place with a multiple-generation family unit would probably be even more stressful. I told older son the other morning that I can't imagine what it would have been like to do the isolation thing when he and his brother were, say, seven and five. He pointed out that it would probably have been worse when they were both teenagers. He then reminded me of some of what had gone on when they were teenagers, things such as his rappelling down from the upper deck with his brother's door strapped to his back, possibly the high point of the Doors War. There was also sledding down the stairs on a futon we were throwing out.
I'll try to keep in mind that all this would have been even harder with four people than it is with two the next time I have homicidal feelings toward the other guy.
2 comments:
Seriously, when my "he" goes into truly hateful temper tantrums (never directed at me--usually at a piece of technology that isn't playing perfectly and nicely [lordy, he sounds ready to run for office, doesn't he?]), I tell myself that he's simply ensuring that the DNR instructions he's left with me are easier to carry out.
Whatever gets us through this, I say.
Luckily, I don't think any of us have felt homicidal yet. And that's five of us and only one bathroom. ;) Annie's the only extrovert, but when she needs too much interaction for the rest of us to handle, she just goes to her room and skype's with friends. We'll see if the non-homicidal trends continue though, huh?
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