Quarantine diaries - Day 4: The not so great news
Today was great. And then it wasn’t.
I woke up today feeling great. Set my alarm for 6:15 AM. Woke up, made coffee, changed into workout clothes, then set off for a quick run. I jogged around Grace Cathedral and in the Russian Hill neighborhoods. It felt so good get moving, to raise my heart rate, to sweat, and to use my legs.
It also felt really good to be outside. I felt safer than I had the day before because there were far less people out and about in the early hours. After about thirty minutes, I jogged back to my house. Once inside, I ran my laundry down to the laundry room and threw in a load. Then I came upstairs, showered, and sat down on my sofa to take a virtual meeting.
The day was pretty busy. I reviewed shots from a photoshoot via a text chat, edited some documents for a project, and took a couple of more calls. During this time, I also ran downstairs, switched my laundry to the dryer, grabbed that, and brought it all back upstairs.
By this time, I was getting pretty hungry and I had plans to pick up sandwiches from my favorite sandwich shop, Lou’s. I locked my apartment and walked the blocks down to Battery street.
A former coworker who I’d planned this outing with was already there. She mentioned that people were getting tickets for being too close to each other. I wasn’t planning on hanging around anyway. So, I took my two sandwiches (one for me and one for my neighbor), we said goodbye, and then I headed back home.
When I got back to my apartment, I quickly ate half (probably way quicker than I should have). Then I had another meeting. Halfway through the call I got a text from my dad.
It’s confirmed. He has the coronavirus. I know that he reads this blog occasionally, so I’m not going to go into detail. However, I’m here to write the truth. Write, from my perspective, what it’s like to live through this time. And the truth is, I’m upset. I’m scared. I know that he is strong and so much of me believes that he’ll be just fine. But there’s a chance that he won’t be. There’s a chance that none of us will be.
Which is why I haven’t really told anyone. I don’t think I could bear it if anyone told me, “you can’t think like that. You have to be positive. Everything will be fine.”
I have to think realistically. Now more than ever. It’s the only way I’ll stay sane.
So I can hope that we’ll all be fine. That everyone I care about will be back to normal in a month or two. But I can’t be sure of that.
San Francisco never felt that far from Hawaii before. In fact, I’ve always liked that distance. It allowed me to be independent. To be on my own. But now it seems endless; vast, distant, and lonely.
I miss my family.
After that text, I didn’t feel much like working. Still, I called into another meeting and finished editing a copy doc. Then I did some mindless busy work. I was glad that it was an option.
Then I let myself take a break and watched some Bon Appetit test kitchen videos on YouTube. I watched the one where Claire makes gourmet bagel bites. I ate the second half of my sandwich while watching it.
Then I went downstairs to my neighbors apartment for a glass of wine. Even though I was still really full from the sandwich, I indulged in the cheeseboard that he prepared. There’s nothing like knowing you’re going to be safely at home (away from strangers) to make your lactose intolerance seem like a non-issue. That and your family members having the Pandemic COVID-19…
There are bigger problems out there than my inability to process cheese.
We Facetimed with a couple of friends while eating and drinking. Got into an argument about the fact that I don’t think there’s a good system in place for spreading news and state-related laws or precautions.
In my friend’s defense, yes, we should be seeking out information in times like these.
In my defense, I know there are young people out there who are even more ignorant that I am—who are not seeking out information—and who won’t have any awareness about what’s changing daily.
We ended the call and now I’m back upstairs in my own apartment, writing this entry. I don’t think anyone besides my dad will read it, but it feels like something I want to write. Hi Dad! :)
This morning, when I felt good and healthy and happy, I thought I’d end the day writing part of my book. Instead, I think I’ll watch a few movies and force myself to go to sleep early.
I don’t really want to think about anything right now.
Actually. There are some things I want to think about. I want to think about the positive things.
What I’m grateful for:
I’m grateful that my parents decided not to go visit my grandma when the first test came back negative.
I’m grateful that my brother, his girlfriend, and their baby moved out right before my dad came back from my trip.
I’m grateful that my dad is strong and fit for his age (something that our guide made very clear during our Icelandic glacier hike).
I’m grateful that my mom probably has an incredible immune system after working with cute but grubby preschoolers for all these years.
I’m grateful that San Francisco is moving forward with preventative measures.
I’m grateful that so many people have been creating content to keep us entertained and active.
I’m grateful that I have a job and can afford to stay quarantined in a studio apartment. I know that this is something that many people don’t have.
I’m grateful that I like being alone and that this hasn’t really bothered me much yet.
I’m grateful for my neighbor’s mother who is sending positive energy our way.
