Life in the Time of Corona

My housemates helped me clean the garage yesterday. I called in sick and we worked for several hours to sweep, wash, and sanitize the garage and most of the stuff in it. What this means is that my garage is now presentable and safe(ish). The ish part has to do with how it was built and the fact that I do not think it meets any current construction codes. I didn’t seal up all the rat holes. There were a bunch of them. There’s one more left. I’m convinced that there is a massive network of rat tunnels beneath the garage slab. The tactic was to find the holes, fill them with spray foam, push in steel wool, fill in with more foam, then press, let it set, and cut. I looked today for rat shit and came up empty. So far, so good. It feels excellent to tackle one of the biggest messes for which I am responsible. I am very appreciative of the housemate crew, especially Daniel, (Rob cleaned, too) because of his seemingly inexhaustible ability to chore. Progress. There is also now function...

So often, I just have these deep moments of appreciation who are helping with questions or activities big and small, and it can kind of choke me up. Actually right now, any kind words from folks who help me in my work or affirm my work make my tear ducts swell. On my staff at most staff meetings we do individual appreciations, if we have time, everyone gives one to every other person. I feel so much appreciation right now, but not fully able to express it. Some of you all know the activist exercise about "my people" My people: - throw down - answer questions - or figure out solutions My people plant flowers, bake bread, raise babies My people - pick up the phone - connect people to each other My people work hard. My people figure out the work that needs to be done and do it. My people affirm each other. Thank you for the work you're doing in this moment. I see you. I appreciate you. I appreciate you being one of my people.

it's been a hell of a week. i'd been mostly keeping my head down, deeply concentrating on this micro-campaign and not in the big picture, and that had been keeping me focused and sane but at some point i had to come out and look around at this shitshow and take it all in. i started to get really worried once i heard that several unions have large percentages of their members laid off, and you know, if none of your members are working its hard to sustain staff salaries. it had me kind of in a panic. i did a video conference with a doctor (they said you're fine, just chill) and with my therapist and cried straight through both of them. i had been really enjoying living alone but i never anticipated that it would mean i would be in my house for several weeks without any real contact. i did have a personal victory yesterday though. i finally had a stove delivered and found a plumber and now have a functioning stove! even though i havent baked bread in years, i felt like i ...

this languished in the drafts folder from a few days ago, but i'm posting it now. yesterday, my dad suggested we have a drink on a google hangout with my brothers. and it was nice, but it's hard to keep the conversation from turning to dark stuff. both my dad and his wife have parents that are 90 years old and have had accidents in the past few months and are moving from independent to assisted living. i decided to go to the grocery store and i started driving, i found myself heading to the wheaton hmart. it was still full of fresh vegetables and house-marinated bulgogi. my freezer is now stuffed with dumplings and udon noodles and little ziplocks of meat. but after that, i found it hard to go to sleep. i kept feeling worried about infecting people, or being infected, and dreamt about it a lot.

I'm working really hard these days. So much video conferencing, urgency, and new concepts hurts my brain. I'm not trying to keep up with anything beyond local needs and solutions. I see my lane, and I'm sticking too it. building it out. Making a path by walking. And Im trying to be good. Getting no more intimate than an outdoor meet up feet apart. But when I hear the national news, nothing seems enough. It's probably better that I can't back seat analyze all the shoulda woulda could a for our society, our government.  But I fear we're in the calm before something really shattering. We're antsy. We're worried about the fears we know: poverty, homelessness, loneliness. I hate to even speak into existence what we can't imagine.

I'm posting two posts I wrote then sat on because I wrote them right before going to bed, and that's the scariest time of day.  you know what's weird about this moment? the extreme everyoneness of it. today, I was listening to my normal distracty podcasts (three advice shows, now that I think about it, although only one pretends to give real advice). this media, and others like it, have been my distraction through bad days, anxiety, and all the ones in between. there's a comfort to their routine. they come out on certain days, I know their rhythm, and what else I like to do while listening. they really have carried me through a lot. they have kept my thoughts at bay through hard days and nights. and now they aren't even familiar. like the most uninteruptable format can't even stay the same. there's no wondering if the real advice show is going to answer a question that's painfully familiar. yes, it will. there's no escape to goofy brother bante...

I went on a walk in the woods with a friend on Saturday (hi Rob, pretty sure you're not reading this blog though, hah!), and I think that was my last walk with a pal for a while. It just seems too hard to actually maintain a 6-foot separation when walking on winding trails. But then Sunday I walked over to a pal's house and sat in her back yard with her. That felt good. Yesterday I left the house once, to take a walk in Crestwood, which I highly recommend -- it's so suburban over there, and it's easy to not pass anyone. Some of the streets don't even have sidewalks, so you're not gonna risk being all crammed up against someone as you pass them. I just read this essay in the Post:  "How social distancing could ultimately teach us how to be less lonely" . One of the things he writes about is the importance of eye contact for feeling human connection -- even eye contact with strangers. When I was entering Crestwood, I passed a lady shaking her rug ou...

here's one side effect of being home alone and making lots and lots of phonecalls to workers all day: my bottoms of my feet are sore from pacing around, just run a little raw. i guess i find myself walking around on the softest parts of my knobbly rug and doing loops from the kitchen nook into my bedroom and back. i do a lot of talking on the phone for my job lately, it doesnt leave me with a lot of energy to do it for fun. my hands are dry af too. i guess when you cook yourself 3 meals a day (and im counting my frozen pizza yesterday as cooking), you have to do a lot of dishes. and that handwashing that maybe makes me feel better but also makes my skin crack. here's a vignette: i went to my mailbox to look for the thermometer my mom said she'd send me because it's not easy to get them anymore. i walked down 3 flights of stairs (i now know which levels have doors that push out, so i dont have to use the handle), opened my mailbox using the key, grabbed my mail and ...

Now that we’re past whatever ear infections/toddler viruses/stomach bugs that have plagued our house for the last few weeks, the reality of our current situation is setting in. I’m staying occupied with chores, long-neglected house projects, and spending time with Riley. But every time I read the news or a poem or see an encouraging meme or have a minute to think, I start crying.   From everything I’m reading, it seems like this could last 18 months. Thinking about a year and a half of social distancing is heavy as fuck. Riley would be 4 years old, and have had only Jon and I to interact with for almost half of his life. What will the world even look like after this over, with no restaurants or movie theatres, no retail except grocery stores and liquor stores?   Thinking of this as a long term issue does help take the pressure off of the day to day. I’m taking projects slowly, trying not to rush decisions, and trying to find moments of joy or at least ease every day...

Last night our co-op president abruptly quit the board. I love this guy -- he's an energetic, hard-charging dude with a sense of humor, and he likes to get shit done. Whenever he sees me, he gives me a big hug. We don't always agree on co-op decisions, but we're good at disagreeing, and we help make a good team on the board. But last night he quit, all of a sudden. Too much other stuff going on in his life and his family life right now that he has to deal with, he said. He has to give his full attention to his family. And of course -- we get it. He still has a job, but I'm not sure about his wife. I think his mom might have just moved in with them, probably to take care of their daughter. Three generations in two bedrooms. Yesterday I was walking around Mt. Pleasant and saw several sets of (white) grandmas and grandparents out pushing their grandkids in strollers. It was a beautiful day, and they all looked pleased as punch. I wonder what those families are thinking....

Today, for a brief window between unending screen time, I took a walk in a new direction. If you go down the hill, past The Rittenhouse, cross 16th Street, and into Rock Creek Park, you find yourself in a golf course. It's not your fancy-great-uncle's golf course. I'm actually not sure who's it is. Maybe it's the people's golf course. DC has those. You can walk around, maybe run into a golfer. But today, I hardly saw anyone. I walked over rolling hills, and through the treeline. I even saw two deer.  But it was a clearing with a little swampy patch that made me pause. As I came down the hill, I took my headphones out, and suddenly my ears were filled with noise. Mostly the frogs, who were out as the sun was starting to set. And a few birds. The pair of mallards were silent.  When I was a kid, I spent a lot of this time of year in the woods like this. It was a similar half-wilderness next to humanity. In middle school, I'd come home fro...

pretty inconvenient that it's allergy season and i have asthma and that "shortness of breath" is the main early symptom of covid.  when i went to bed last night i was feeling anxious and i felt a little wheezy and was kind of resigned that this shit was coming for me. i woke up fine though. still haven't eaten breakfast because i've def been prioritizing playing a phone game in bed over feeding myself before my daily 9:30am work call. today i showered, at least. i'm kind of out of underwear but laundry hasn't felt like the thing i want to do, even though it's right downstairs and i'm home all day. i did feel really cared for yesterday though...a bundle of green veggies was the one thing i was lamenting not having in my house and then jon had extra and rob delivered it to me. also bought a six pack of cokes from the latino market downstairs (which was too bustling for my tastes) because the truth is soda is way more satisfying to me than a beer....

you know what's wild, y'all? moods. Like today, I woke up fine, was productive, I remember that, then, there was just this long stretch of feeling totally hopeless as a person, in this situation, to rise to the occasion, to understand the occasion, to keep my feelings in some kinda reasonable place, to focus on work or anything else moderately helpful. then I literally shook it off to tay sway in the back yard cuz I couldn't come up with a better idea, and I waved at my neighbors when they walked through the alley to my middle aged dance party of one, and then felt better, but also felt like I was pushing through and then felt worse, and then went for a walk, which felt better, then ran a work meeting which felt normal and engaging and helpfully disconnected from my feels, then for a walk with Emma at a social distance. After all that I felt light, and came home, was actually productive with work, watched my dumb tv show during drum practice, made a giant salad, and watch...

It's totally disorienting how fast this is all moving. Last Friday night -- what, four days ago? -- Mike and I had band practice with our bandmate, all's normal. Then this morning we talked to him on the phone and concluded we should have no more band practice. On Saturday I had a couple neighbors over to our apartment to figure out a coronavirus plan for the co-op, and on Sunday Mike and I went over to a friend's house and chilled with four people. Now we've decided we can't have anyone over, or go over to anyone else's place. Yesterday I went on a bike ride in the park with my friend Melissa and her kids. Today I'm like, was that dumb? I tried not to touch them and hopefully the breeze was blowing all the germs in the other direction. But good lord. The main thing I'm bummed about right now is not being able to babysit my friends' kids, which I'd offered to do last week when it was clear schools were gonna close and people were gonna have to...

Things that have made me feel hope and connection: an online party on saturday night where everyone dressed up and danced around on a zoom meeting to disco and house music watching everyone's instagram stories which range from optimistic to bleak calling my friends all the time without asking if they have time because tbh they probably do planning to watch music videos with my bandmates instead of band practice getting a text from a friend who said she'd deliver food to me if i need it getting really high and then watching she-ra via netflixparty.com with some friends so we could make jokes about it in a chatroom as we watched the bill passing the DC council that expands unemployment for people laid off or with reduced hours due to this crisis and halts evictions. i posted on fb about it and it got widely circulated and i felt like for the moment my dumb skill of knowing about gov't was helpful in the early stages of the apocalypse lol Things that have made me fee...

Does being vigilant make you less susceptible to the virus? At work today I was told, via conference call, that I should stay vigilant. I was told that in return for my vigilance, we could achieve a virus free workplace. I was also told to work remotely. Then I was told to schedule my remote work with my supervisor. And also that I could schedule my direct reports to work remotely, but only with the approval of my supervisor. Okay, the bureaucracy aside, is vigilance the answer here? I can understand some cases. Be vigilant about washing your hands, as an example. Be vigilant about not shaking people’s hands. Being vigilant about the rules and guidelines. I guess there is some case for vigilance in the context of rules. Adherence. Comformation. Piousity. Fervor. Faith. Sure, there are vast sciences of epidemiology, virology, and so forth. But it’s in the name, people. It’s novel. Motivation has been sapped. Is that a symptom? I don’t think so. “It’s nobody’s fault, unless you go ...

We’ve been stuck at home for almost three full weeks with some non-COVID-19 toddler virus and ear infections. Thursday we took Riley to a follow-up appointment for this ear infection and cough he can’t seem to kick, and the doctor put him on an inhaler and another round of antibiotics. Later that afternoon, Maryland announced all schools would be closed through the end of the month, including Riley’s pre-school. We decided to self-quarantine/social distance as much as possible so as not to expose Riley to any more potential viruses and let his lungs and immune system recover.   Friday was our first full day acknowledging that we were social distancing and starting to plan for the next few weeks (or more) of working from home with Riley. It was a rough day. I was supposed to work while Jon had the day off, but he got pulled into a bunch of press work, Riley was still sick and cranky, and I was stressed about getting work done and doing a final supply run. We finally got Riley t...

In no particular order: decided the couch cushions were gross, washed them. sandpapered boards for my attic project outside while unsuccessfully starting a fire using the damp brush I had assembled yesterday before it rained. talked to my elderly neighbor about the stuff she wants to get rid of in her apartment, and how I would help her but not soon; laughed loudly, elbow bumped. wondered if in two weeks we all will want desperately to talk to each other, but won't have anything new to say. slept till 11:00. hand wrote signs and taped them around my neighborhood about where school meal pick-ups are happening; decided that was inefficient, went to my office and printed copies. tried to pick up my medication; was impeded by a mysterious error on the CVS computer which would not allow the pharmacist to sell it to me, must return tomorrow (insert "darn it" finger snap). bought Irish Spring, because apparently it's not a joke, and people really aren't buying it. but ...

Last night I wrote myself lists. What else are you supposed to do when the world is shutting down around you and you don't know how to reorganize your own life with a fraction of the normal human interaction that you believe keeps you at that perfect balance of extroversion and rejuvenation? They are basically lists of things I can do other than stare at a screen hoping it will somehow replace the 8 hours a day I generally spend in an office with too many desks and not enough walls or in meetings. The first thing on my list is "Read the Shock Doctrine." Naomi Klein as always has the best take: "The worst people in the world are in charge of everything. It's time for this to change. That's my sophisticated political analysis." She really always has been able to write straight to me. Today I did get energized going to the hardware store. And not just being at the store. Coming home with the supplies to take on a variety of projects that can take ...