Another Covid-19 Monday of Wonder

The days are starting to meld into each other.

I started out trying to keep some semblance of normal.

After all, I thought, this should be relatively easy for us, we all work at home, work remotely, and as writers, creatives, artists, this should be a breeze.

Not!

First, my entire family is in my townhouse and since the second level is an open floor plan, my office is surrounded by noise.

Second, well, none of these days are normal with everyone in pajamas, sweatpants, or trying to figure out how to not eat everything in the kitchen.

Third, we are all mourning the loss of what was supposed to be and after the first week inside, realized that we are a bit numb. How long did they say this was going to go on?

I work up this morning at my usual o’dark’thirty and came down to make coffee. I wrote in my many journals, listened to the sounds of a morning-that-isn’t, and wondered what I could possibly do to make this day any better.

One thing is I’m doing this.

Writing about it.

My feelings about it.

On the one hand, it has not been all bad, good, in fact. There isn’t the hustle and bustle to get my teen daughters out the door to the high school. Covid-19 has eliminated the afternoon/evening wait for my daughter to finish yet-another-sport-practice. So on that, it has been good to feel rested.

My kitchen is stocked. It really was before Covid-19 because my teen daughters were about to be home for Spring Break. The trips were cancelled, so my husband did loaded up with all their
favorites and I made sure my #1 necessity was in the kitchen – coffee beans.

Today begins another Monday. The small non-profit where I spend some of my time is off today, so no Zoom meetings. Myteam is off for Holy Week, so no Zoom or conference call planning for the literary summer. No music drops or videos from one of our core team members. It is a quiet Monday.

But isn’t that what some of us were craving? I know I have.

I’ve longed for time at the ocean or lake, or a car trip over bridges or a visit back to the Garden of the Gods in Colorado, to just have a moment to breathe, contemplate, look at the sky and wonder.

But since I’m inside, I have to let my imagination and hours of browsing photos of where I once visited be my muse.

One day, I will open my doors again.

One day, I will step outside, breathe deeply, and be thankful for this gift of time.