Being a social outcast has never been so cool… and isn’t likely to ever be again.
This spring, life quickly turned topsy-turvy in a way most of us didn’t realize was possible. Reflecting now on the last few months seems somewhat premature since the COVID situation is still in flux and the outcome is yet unknown. However, just going over the range of what has happened so far feels like a monumental task. Hence, I wanted to tackle this topic before a 25-page essay becomes necessary.
I’m still digesting this affair with the rest of the world. In another year, decade, or century perhaps we will fully understand the lasting legacy of this pandemic and what we should have done differently. Until then, here’s a bit of my limited perspective.
March
March is supposed to come in like a lion and go out like a lamb. Instead, it felt like one of those rollercoasters that starts out slow and then, next thing you know, the ground just ceases to be under you. It was a month of disruption and isolation where plans vaporized as if hit by a phaser on maximum. The roads and parks became silent and eerie while panic gripped communities. As the death count in the US rocketed and businesses suffered, many Americans fought over toilet paper and placing blame instead of coming together to hinder this microscopic foe.
Like most of you, Jason and I became lost in the pace of change. The month preceding the onset of social distancing was particularly busy for us, so much so that Jason determined we needed to cut out some of our routine activities. Be careful what you wish for my boy! From that eventfulness, we dropped off the quarantine cliff, and suddenly nothing was going on. At first, every day seemed exactly the same as we struggled to adjust.
After the initial shock of speedy isolation wore off, Jason and I started figuring out ways to make isolation less isolating. Within the first month of seclusion, we had 11 virtual board game nights with different sets of friends over Google Hangouts. In our peak week, we had four virtual game nights on consecutive evenings. That proved too much for my eyes. These games were made possible by the resourcefulness of Jason. He rigged some of my photography equipment to hold a cell phone over the game board for a board view. To date, we’ve successfully played Pandemic, King of Tokyo, Splendor, Pandemic Legacy, and Wits & Wagers this way.
I initiated virtual King of Tokyo and Splendor tournaments with my family using the above-mentioned method. I was pronounced King of Tokyo, while my brother was declared the winner of Isolated Splendor. Later, an online Dominion tournament ensued, which was won by a nephew. The matches were more intense than expected, especially Splendor. Missing the competitive exhilaration provided by sporting events? Set up virtual game nights for all your cutthroat needs!
Jason and I also introduced virtual movie nights to my family. We’d all watch a prearranged film at a specific time in our respective locations and get online to discuss the flick afterward. This was a weekly tradition for a couple months.
Beyond getting some screen time with real people to reassure us we weren’t the only ones left on the planet, Jason and I kept sane by taking walks almost every evening, often as soon as the workday was over. Sanity was also gained by nearly daily workouts. I’ve got strapping arm muscles (relatively speaking) thanks to my regular stints on the arm bike; I call these my COVID arms. It was easy to make time for exercise in the absence of everything else.
Having interesting projects helped break up the monotony too. Since I wasn’t taking new pictures, I was able to catch up on editing photos from a few years ago. I commenced some sewing projects for Regency accessories. Additionally, I started planting a forest of succulents, an undertaking I anticipated and bought supplies for before the shutdown. I also took advantage of internet learning opportunities. Online ukulele lessons, photography classes, and cosmetic chemistry courses all kept my brain engaged. Thank goodness for technology!
Any day that was warm enough, I spent on my laptop in the backyard. This change of setting from the study to the patio mollified my mind considerably. On a few Saturdays, Jason and I legitimately got outdoors by snowshoeing up the slopes of Alta Ski Resort and then snowboarding down them.
And how was and is working from home working? Jason and I get along exceptionally well. Even after being compacted together 24-7 for months, we still adore each other. Transitioning to working from home was pretty easy for us. The hardest thing was Jason’s loud phone conversations and video chats. I’m pretty sure talking to people in meetings and out of meetings is 99% of what he does. I just escape to another floor, or better yet the backyard, when he’s being a chatty Cathy, and all remains good.
May
After two months of social distance, new routines seemed more normal. By the end of April, I had fallen into a productive pattern split between working inside in the morning and outside in the afternoon. The evenings mostly involved walks, cleaning, and exercise. A clear distinction emerged between weekdays and weekends as we grew more accustomed to our altered habits.
We also found a way to get “out” thanks to a local theater creatively transforming their parking lot into a drive-in, which started screening classics like The Goonies, The Bourne Identity, and Back to the Future Part II.
Jason and I launched “distant” lunches to allow for in-person contact. Basically, we realized we could meet up with friends at a park and easily maintain social distance. These lunches continue to be a source of unattached interaction for us. Everyone brings a chair and a meal, and we see each other with our eyeballs. We even did a distant picnic for a family Mother’s Day gathering.
As social obligations began to creep in again, in a limited fashion of course, I noticed they were a bit distracting. While I was ecstatic about seeing people on more than one occasion, the checkoffs on my to-do list declined as did my focus, which made me feel a little overwhelmed. After weeks with almost none of life’s normal interferences, it seemed unnatural to have them return. I missed feeling like there was plenty of time and reason to take long walks with Jason on nearly a daily basis.
June
I think I have acclimated to the new, new normal for now, which is a mix of nothing and something. The staggering lack of focus I felt a month ago has dissipated. I’m not sure where next month and the months after will take me and us as a country, but I hope we will navigate through them wisely.
With about 120,000 deaths in the United States from COVID-19 to date and a surge imminent in Utah, this virus continues to change and shape our attention and daily routines. Amidst the anxiety and turmoil, may we be safe. May we be sane. May we be considerate. May we be rational. May we be responsible. May we be compassionate. We are all in this together from the elderly lady living next door to the small business owner down the street, so let’s help each other and go easy on the judgement. That is my wish for all of you and for myself.
I can’t help but wonder if after all this is over, we as a nation and as a world will be a little depressed instead of elated. That may sound like nonsense. The thing is, when normalcy returns, we may remember that normal wasn’t perfect. The same problems we had before all of this will still be there. Needing to just get through the next few months is less intimidating than needing to get through the next 30 to 50 years. Plus, as engulfing as COVID feels at the moment, there will be other urgent crises. May our perseverance outlast this virus and make us more resilient to all that lies ahead. That is my final wish for this post and all those that read it.