I’m writing this in week two of my Corona quarantine. Which obviously means I have been confined to my house for seven days plus, after having voluntarily withdrawn from public life a couple of days prior, as soon as I had cause to believe I might have contracted COVID-19. That makes about ten days of being grounded thus far.
To say I feel cooped in is understating it a bit.
Staying at home now is a matter of common decency and a governmental restraining order. Turns out, though, ordering groceries by mail is still an issue in this day and age with the biggest hurdle for most supermarkets being a failure to provide online payment. Also, what certain online platforms handle with the ease of longstanding experience is still new ground for the smaller competitors: How to ship the ordered goods within, say, a day or two? I get it, there has been a rise in demand of late. But, come on, Rewe, ten days to ship my groceries? You’re kidding, right?
Never fear, I will not starve. There is still this old-fashioned system in place where relatives set foot into a local store and carry the needed goods to your house with their bare hands. Pray that they will not be quarantined themselves, or we’d be done for.
I had a different expression there that I edited out.
So, today I got another governmental order: my quarantine is to be extended two days. No new statement of grounds other than repeating the one I got the last time (including the paragraph with the now obsolete end date). Again, I get it, Administration is made up of people, and there has been a lot going on. But you should still do your jobs properly, yes?
And, just a hint, instead of showering people with a bunch of legal gobbledygook, addressing them as “suspect” of being infected, ordering them what to do and not to do, why not lead with something like, say, ‘We are sorry you are going through this and wish you a swift recovery.’ Would have been nice. Just saying.
So, you might ask, what does a writer do being stuck at the house for weeks? (Until there are no more symptoms. In autumn. Common cold season. You see, where I’m getting at.) Shouldn’t a writer write? Promote her books online? Go all out on making the best of things?
Huh. Turns out, the downside of catching Corona is being ill. Lucky enough, I didn’t catch it bad. Four days into “the thing” I did not have to be hospitalized, which is when I figured I would not be one of the hard cases. That is a relief. Yet, I am not all well, and writing has been difficult. As a matter of fact, trying to sit and put some words into my work in progress, my head hurts immediately. My mind just shuts off. The lights are out, other than that blinking sign that reads: Vacancy.
This should probably frighten me. Before this, I was doing good with my writing and this blog was gaining more attention. I should not let this progress slip. In this world, lying low means to be forgotten and that means you’re virtually dead. But, you know, I have always done things my way, my pace. Being forgotten does not scare me. Everyday new attractions rise and new projects are born. Why not mine? There is still time, until there is no more. And then it won’t matter.
For now, the shutters are down. The writer’s not home, she’s taking her time.
Take good care, love yourself, and see you next time. Peace!