Sheltering-in-Place: Day 37
The text on the image reads
My arms reach for what they want, but I refuse to take it.
Your life is more important than my whim.
It is a gorgeous, warm, sunny day. I want to be swimming, eating (fake) ice cream, feeling a hot beach beneath my feet. I want to see my friends and go to my art studio and ship things to customers and paint real life full size paintings. I want so many things—just like everyone else.
And just like almost everyone else, I'm staying put. I'm keeping my distance. I'm not putting myself or anyone else at unnecessary risk. My husband is doing the same. Neither of us are considered essential workers. We have a little bubble of two. It has enough food, plenty of chores, a handful of hobbies, and more work than we want whether we get paid for it or not (lol?). We're okay, and we know it. That helps a lot.
Today is very tempting, however. We're past the projected high points of our infection and death curves for our state. It's a relief, but—BUT—we're nowhere near the end of this by any expert's account. (I encourage you look that up at your news resource of choice.) (Also, it's sickening me that I just wrote that I'm relieved about the progression of death in my state. This isn't the military; the concept of acceptable losses has no place here.)
Where was I? Right. Today is tempting me to want things and experiences even more than normal simply because I can't have them right now. It's perfectly possible that I would have stayed home today and cleaned the kitchen floor regardless of any apocalypse; but, now that I have to stay home, it feels like I wouldn't. Pesky brain! Treacherous emotions!
So, I look at my cute husband and remember that we're keeping each other safe. I look at all the people who live in my computer (Hi!) and remember that we're all keeping each other safe. I never want to be the cause of someone's suffering, much less their death.
I'm staying put. Everything that can wait will wait.