Stay At Home

I'm seeing a lot of news stories about how so few Americans are staying at home during this pandemic. One story is using cell phone trackers and defining compliance as staying within a five mile radius of home.  Another is unclear on how the data is gathered, but seems to be defining it as staying on your own property.  I could go on, but these two examples are sufficient to make my point.

Very few of us are able to never leave their property.  We all have essential errands.  Essential workers usually drive farther that five miles to do their jobs.  Grocery store pick-up services are becoming very popular, but those using said services still need to go (often more than five miles) pick the stuff up.

My grocery and doctor are roughly 15 miles from home.  In opposite directions.  I'm definitely in violation according to most of these reports.  I go to the store twice a month and the doctor every three to six months, depending upon my test results.  Most of my other errands are within that five mile limit and I combine errands in the same area into a single trip.  That was my usual pattern long before COVID-19.

I'd rather find my own substitute for a 45 ounce Blue Bonnet than further burden the overworked and underpaid. If  my choice to shop for myself, even with precautions like a mask and wet-naps, makes me a horrible person, then I'll own it.

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There's also the question of how your area defines the order.  A small family group was in the local park when I ran to the pharmacy.  A handful of boys on the basketball court were at least attempting to stay six feet apart, playing Horse.  A single teenager on a bicycle practiced dumb teenage stunts.  None of these people were in violation.   Yet, according to most of these news stories, every one of us is part of the problem.

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When you see a news story like this, I urge you to think for a moment.  How is the study in question defining compliance?  How are they gathering the data?  Where are all these people going, if everywhere and everything is closed?

The same is true of stories about those who are arrested for not complying.  Regardless of your feelings about the entire situation, a man who was arrested "alone in the ocean" was actually charged with trespassing on a closed public beach.  A father who was cuffed "in front of his daughter" refused to identify himself to the police.  He had a right to do so, yes, but the fact of the matter is this:  He was not charged with anything to do with Social Distancing or Stay-At-Home.

Most of us are complying to the best of our ability, according to what our areas have ruled.  Most of the police and even politicians are not going full Hitler on us.  The newspapers are just reporting what sells.  If we fail to use the critical thinking skills we either evolved or had handed to us by some deity, that's our failing.

Social Isolation With The Demon, Part Two

I associate silence with anger.  It makes me very uncomfortable.  If you were to see me driving down the road, no one in my vehicle with me, I'm talking.  Usually working out my next blog post or some story point for my fiction, but talking instead of thinking.  There's an imaginary passenger asking questions and supplying feedback.  I informed my dolls today that I was running to the pharmacy and would be back soon.  None of that is new.

What is new is the lack of interaction with actual human beings.  I'm not social, but I am friendly.  The closest I've been to neighborly chit-chat was standing as far apart as possible in the elevator with Scooter Man and reminding myself not to lean in closer so I could hear him.   I've taken a few solitary walks to enjoy the coming of spring, but it just isn't the same alone.  One of my sisters and a good friend have offered to walk with me, practicing social distancing or wearing a mask, but neither of those conditions allows conversation.   Not when one of us is hard of hearing.

Usually, when cabin fever hits, I wander over to the local dollar store or fast food joint.  I chat with the workers, look at different walls, and it serves as a mental reset button.  But not now.

Besides essential trips to places like the pharmacy and grocery, I've not gone anywhere but my nephew's house.  I do laundry there and watch TWD when it's running new episodes.  I have charge of the flower bed there, a leftover from my long residence with them, and indulged in some weeding.  Both parents are essential workers and I'm immunocompromised.  They, the biggest source of comfort to me when feeling lonely, are practicing social distancing with me even inside their home.  For my own protection.  I know that.

But it still hurts when I go to the sink while he's unloading the dish drainer and he steps briskly away.  The usual trips to the garden store I'd be having with her have not happened.  The Boy hasn't terrorized Barbieville in a month.  Those are the things I am aching for.  The little things I simply cannot do, for my own protection and that of those around me.

Unrelated to the pandemic:  One of my minions was hospitalized and among the tests they did were cancer screenings.  I changed her diapers, I changed both her children's diapers, and I'm powerless to do anything for her or them.

There's a constant mumble from the cage in the corner of my mind.  My dreams are bad.  I cried last night because I couldn't glue the leg back on a giant plastic spider.  I'm still forcing myself to get out of bed, get fully dressed, and socialize online as I still can.  I'm not allowing The Demon to take over.  But it's getting harder.

I hope this is over soon.  Right now, we're looking at May.  Hoping for May.  Freaking praying for May.  Thank you, everyone, for all the help you have been to me and all the help I know you will be in the future.  We just gotta slog through and make it there!

Hugs to all.