I think it’s starting to hit the kids that they’re not going back to school soon. Gwen this morning, while doing one of her worksheets: “I thought this was going to be fun, but I don’t like it any more.”
Right there with ya, kid.
We’re distracting ourselves with Animal Crossing now. I’m trying to sketch a little every day, even though I’m not really feeling it. We’ve made a commitment to once-a-week takeout from local places, at least while that’s still feasible, and “movie night” is any night we feel like watching a movie. Distraction, distraction, distraction.
The mental exhaustion is taking its toll. I lean hard on escapism and naps, my favorite depressive coping strategies (although I wouldn’t qualify myself as “depressed” right now). I think I’ve accepted the grief, and now I’m feeling pre-survivor’s guilt; I’m just waiting for people to die, even though we have it relatively good here. My imagination gets the better of me when I read about accounts of young, healthy folks succumbing to COVID-19, though.
So I set up a phone appointment with my therapist and I’m looking forward to that. I’m trying to focus on the good things; the weather is great, so we’ve been out for regular walks. Spring is springing earlier than usual. We have plenty of food. We have steady income and understanding employers. I managed to find yeast at our local co-op so I can finally make bread. Shortages appear to be slowing down. I can afford to donate to those less fortunate than us. Gratitude is the bright spot.
Meanwhile, Tim brought home what he referred to as “the white gold” and I immediately knew he meant toilet paper. We live in weird times.