What a difference a day makes. As of last night, I’m officially living under a shelter-at-home order. It’s not draconian. In fact, it’s pretty reflective of how my husband and I have been living since the end of last week: staying out of public places except to shop for necessities (food, pet food), not getting together with anyone but each other, walking the dogs but steering clear of others we come across while we’re out.

It feels different, though. My village government issued the shelter-in-place order yesterday evening after receiving notice of the first confirmed case of COVID-19 in the community. That was followed shortly (this morning) by news that two emergency room doctors at the hospital nearby also have the disease. None of this is surprising, and I’m not in a panic, but it adds a different perspective to the situation.

My typical day

Today was much like any other day this week: I brewed my morning coffee and then settled in for a day of work upstairs. I found a 20-minute window with no meetings or urgent work tasks before the rain arrived, and took a quick walk just to get a minimal amount of exercise. I already had sent the husband out to walk the dogs, knowing I probably wouldn’t be able to get away long enough to do that before the weather turned bad. I got on a conference call minutes after returning home, then worked straight through until 7 p.m.

This has been my pattern all week, except for the timing of the walk. It’s going to be my pattern through at least next week, and I have a feeling it won’t change for quite some time. I suspect this is the new normal. I’m to sure what to think of that, nor what to expect it to do to my psyche.

Seeking a new kind of social

We’ve canceled travel plans to see family a few hours away at the end of the month, and I’m disappointed by that. It’s a trip I was looking forward to, and I realize I’ve no idea when it will be possible. So what to do instead?

For starters, I’ve asked the husband to research online gaming apps, to see whether we can find tabletop simulations for games we like to play with different groups. The family we would have seen on this canceled road trip plays dominoes and euchre; can we find online versions that will connect us with them in real-time for conversation? What about our friends locally? Can we pull together virtual game parties to continue sharing our lives with each other?

I expect I’ll do more texting and emailing with friends, too, but I want to hear their voices also. At the most local level possible, I’m hoping to coax my next-door neighbors (are you reading this, folks?) out onto our front porches for Friday or Saturday evening socials—but not this weekend, because the temperature is supposed to fall to near freezing.

And yet I’m grateful

I’m not complaining. I’m healthy so far, and so is my husband, though I’m waiting with baited breath for word from others I know who have symptoms of illness. Ultimately, I expect we all will know people who fall ill with COVID-19. I hope against hope that we won’t all know people who don’t survive.

Ultimately, I’m thankful for my community’s response. I’m thankful for the school districts that are canceling classes for the next month or even longer. I’m thankful for closed restaurants, shops, and museums. I’m thankful to my employer for making telecommuting possible, and for every other employer that’s doing the same.

I miss my library, but I’m thankful for governments and public institutions that are pausing their operations to keep people from gathering when they don’t need to. I’m also enormously thankful for those who are serving essential functions, whether from home or their regular workplace: the election officials who oversaw voting on Tuesday, the guy who answered my email last night when the village servers crashed just after they issued the shelter-at-home order, and the doctors and nurses and other workers who are keeping hospitals operating. And I’m thankful for every person who is actively social distancing or sheltering at home.

Yes, you. If you’re in the same situation I am, if you feel like your world is starting to close in on you because you hardly leave your house, but you’re doing it because you know it’s the right thing to do…thank you. From the bottom of my heart, thank you. I only hope that a month from now it looks like it was an over-reaction. I hope it works.

Today’s photo

Today’s photo is sidewalk art from my neighborhood, with a message from the artist: