“It was a dark and stormy night.”
This is probably the most hackneyed phrase in literature, but it is so appropriate for so many people right now.
I gave up on sleep at 4 this morning, feeling resolved to get some reading done, power up a workout, take a shower and put on a bra. I did all those things and was ready to tackle this new way of living. Hello Monday. I’m going to make you my bitch.
When the windows outside my living room started to lighten, I was ready for the sunrise. I have expressed before how much I love the sunrise and all the promise it brings. I brewed coffee, splashed in some Bailey’s and made my way to my home office. The sun never showed itself in pink, orange and yellow glory. The view outside was grey and heavy and oppressive.
That figures, I thought. A perfect reflection of my business life right now.
I’m not going to sugar coat this or bury my angst in euphemisms. My business went from 100 to 1 in a week. I have work on the horizon, whenever that horizon will be clear and safe to approach, and one client who is still paying me for work. As the pandemic expanded, Digital Shoebox flatlined. Anxiety was building, not just over the loss of income, but over whether or not I was willing to walk into a shoot, knowing full well I could walk out with COVID-19.
Everything about us – all of us – has changed. This weekend, my husband and I went out to buy groceries, together. I felt a tinge of discomfort over that, and I found myself trying to catch a glimpse of the front seat of every car that passed us in the opposite direction. I didn’t want to be the only couple out there. Later that morning, when we pulled into the parking lot of Home Depot, we decided what we came for really wasn’t necessary. Fear of infection is now the primary determining factor of where we go and what we do. We are measuring the risk of coronavirus versus hard water clogging our shower head. I chose to endure a dry mouth and a dehydration headache versus putting my lips on a can of Bubly plucked from the grocery store cooler.
We are living in SCARY AF times right now. I find myself planning for the future, despite all the changes. I am bridging this crazy space between the reality of dodging a killer virus and the hope that life as I used to know it will resume by summer. I haven’t yet come to terms with the possibility that life will never again be normal. I can’t accept that every cough will be suspect, that we will always be disinfecting groceries, or that grabbing a can of soda will be the new russian roulette. And I’m not sure I even want to live that way anyways.