I've been at home for four weeks now. At first it was just my company "recommending" that anybody who could work from home should do so. Later on, of course, the Governor ordered it. The good part is that I can work from home ... though I will add that it's a damn good thing I finally got myself Internet access in the apartment last year.
I still have work. That's the good part. Of course part of my work involves travel -- always has -- and that part's now in Limbo. I've made proposals for how to handle it, but we'll just have to see what works out. Also my company has noticed that our customers are closing (we sell to other businesses) which means we don't have as much income as we did. Every division is handling this differently. For us, everyone has to take four vacation days in April. Then starting in May we shift to a 32-day work week at 80% pay. They say they'll review the business situation every month, but we should be prepared for this to last three months. (That would mean until the end of July.) Nothing I've heard in the news gives me any hope we'll be through the crisis so soon, but what do I know? Also I've got no grounds to complain, because at least I still have a job. For now.
Marie, for what it's worth, is working harder than ever. She's in retail, but her family-owned business has been designated part of her state's "critical infrastructure." So they are still open, but some team members are out sick, demand is high, and they have to figure out how to service customers while maintaining social distance. When I told her it was definite that we would be transitioning to a 32-hour week in May, she told me her management had promised not to ask more than 65 hours a week. Yes, that's double. A little more.
I've held grocery shopping down to once every two weeks, and laundry once every three. It's amazing ... if you don't go anywhere and never bother to shower, you don't really have to change your clothes all that often either. I sure could use a haircut, though.
Marie and I text each other every morning, each to make sure the other is still alive. (A couple of months ago a coworker of hers never came back from vacation and was finally found dead in her apartment. In her case it was diabetes and not COVID-19, but it seriously spooked Marie and she recommended that we check in with each other like this.) Once she gave me the idea, I started to do the same thing with Son 1 (now in his own apartment since February) and my mother (eighty but still working). Son 1 had a fever for a couple days several weeks ago; he says he assumes in was COVID-19, but he was never tested and seems to be feeling better now. I haven't seen him since then, but he just ordered a new computer and is having it delivered to my place; so in another week or so he'll come and get it. On the other hand he is postponing any trips to visit Wife until he's sure he's not a carrier, because with her lupus medication she is definitely immunocompromised.
What is amazing to me is how seemingly easy it has been for me to adapt to this new way of living. Honestly, hanging around at home not going anywhere or doing anything is a pretty easy target for me to hit. I try to go outside once a day just to walk around the street, so I remember that there really is an outside world. But I've blocked out an hour on my work calendar to take a nap, or interrupted what I was doing to go fetch a snack -- the latter any number of times. It's really easy. My weight and any semblance of an exercise regimen have both gone completely to hell. At least I haven't yet started drinking in the middle of the day. I guess that's something.
One other bright spot is that I've been emailing a couple of guys I used to know (in a virtual way) on a discussion board years ago. I've reworked one of my posts into an essay over on the Patio and there are a couple of others that could follow it if I'd just get my ass in gear. So that's been fun.
This is terrible but I'm not sure I want it to end. Of course, the bad news is that maybe it won't.
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