So, that's been a crazy couple weeks, huh?
I think I'll call it "The Tightening".
14 Days ago, on March 16th. Things were starting to close down. My boss had called me a few days earlier, on a sunny Friday, and told me I'd have no work for the foreseeable future. This surprised me, but in retrospect I can't imagine why. The week prior, in a more innocent time, I had booked a massage and a haircut for that day, so it was on my Monday agenda. We had my final guests in my Airbnb leaving that morning. Cancellations had already emptied out the rest of March, and half of April... so the writing was on the wall. My guests caught an earlier flight to Edmonton because COVID was causing cancellations. The world was beginning to clench. Travel bans followed.
I went to my massage at 10 am. There was a sign on the door instructing me to immediately go to the bathroom and wash my hands. Fine by me! The place is generally quiet, so it was interesting to see that it was even more so. The therapists huddled, proccupied. I wondered if they would be able to continue. I haven't checked in since, but I assume they have shut down for the foreseeable future.
I went home and cleaned the basement Airbnb. I invoked my new amped up cleaning regimen with extra disinfectant on all the surfaces. We had family coming in from out of town for the night. I lysoled and bleached the fuck out of everything and laundered every possible linen, blanket, and towel. Then I headed out to my retro barbershop with my punk rock barber.
The place was busy. Early spring, sunshine, folks needed cuts. There were even dads in with their boys. But... the energy was off. Pandemic chat dominated. Usually we shared loud funny anecdotes with f-bombs, but my barber was subdued, which was unlike him. I told him that I was out of work for the foreseeable future. He was quiet. I wondered aloud about how many people we all knew already had COVID-19, and how we would likely find out in a couple weeks, when it the incubation period had passed. When I left, my Barber wished me luck in "riding out the ripple". I saw on Instagram 4 hours later that he had closed the shop due to public health concerns. Since then the governments have required it, anyways... so I guess he was ahead of the curve.
I got home mid-afternoon, in time to continue laundering linens for family visitors that night. I couldn't shake that mild feeling of anxiety that has since become a dark passenger in life. Family arrived and we ordered pizza. I took a phone call on the patio from my boss, who sadly informed me he was shutting down the company until further notice because of the dangers of coronavirus infection. He's also an economist and told me about the historical precedent of economic collapse, devalued currencies, and rampant inflation. Not uplifting. We wished each other well and agreed we'd hope for the best. See ya when I do...
When I came back into the house my wife and her cousin were having a serious chat. Turns out her kid had been coughed on by another kid that day. And that other kid was running a fever.
Shit.
We agreed that her kid would have a shower and change clothes, and we could eat pizza together at a distance. Which we did. My son came to visit from university and joined us. It was slightly tense. The next day our family visitors went home. I left the basement empty for a day before going downstairs and spraying everything with lysol. It's been two weeks since that night. No one got sick. But still, creeping paranoia... what a drag.
10 Days Ago, March 20th. This was the last day someone other than my wife or myself has been inside our house. Our friend needed to use some of our freezer space to lay in some food because the food shops were getting bought out by hoarders. There's that anxiety again... We said sure because we have a small deep freeze in the workshop. He came over and we kept our distance while he packaged up his purchases in our kitchen. We put his food in the freezer and then had coffee and a nice chat on the patio, all sitting about 10 feet apart. It was weird, social distancing like that, but it was the right thing to do. I still felt like I was pushing it, as far as the protocols were concerned. After he left I cleaned the kitchen thoroughly.
9 Days Ago, March 21st. This was the last day anyone came to our house but did not enter. Our concerns about social distancing increased, but we had this "thing" planned. We agreed that we could have a quick visit and pass along some sourdough starter to an old friend. We sat well apart, on lawn chairs in the front yard of the house. We ate cookies and drank coffee and tried not to be bummed out by the weird of it all. When they left it was awkward, and again, I felt like I was pushing it. Dishes went straight into the dishwasher. We washed our hands promptly.
8 Days Ago, March 22nd. This was the day I called my son, who lives in Vancouver, but in a place on campus at UBC. We'd been planning to get him to come over for supper. After reflection, we realized that it was not a great idea to potentially infect each other with COVID-19 for the sake of ham and mashed potatoes. We agreed that we would need to being social distancing with our son unless he choses, at some point in the future, to move back home. Pretty much all my friends with kids at UNI have had them move back, but our son is just across town. It's fine, I said, but... there's that anxiety. Instead of having him over, I put together a box of food and toilet paper and we dropped it with him, chatting across his backyard from 2 metres away. His birthday's coming up... I bet it'll be a weird one.
5 Days Ago, March 25th. I have chosen Wednesdays to be my "out in the world day". I made my lists and went to the local mall for prescriptions, food, and booze. I spent twice as much on booze as I did on food. People mostly looked kinda freaked out. It was just so slightly tense. We stood on our spots that were indicated by tape on the floor. I felt like I was in some kind of 70's dystopian film. Occasionally someone would ignore the 2 metre rule and come into my bubble, which is the new definition of being an asshole. I was in and out in about 90 minutes. Done. Next Wednesday is Costco. We're almost out of dog food.
Over the past week, we have managed to turn the home office into a work space for my wife so she can work from home. It is not the most perfect fit, but it works for now. We have had multiple visits with friends and family via zoom. It's nice, but also awkward and new. It's the new normal. This week I will face the end of month bills knowing that I have a cushion and can pay everything, but my income evaporated a couple weeks ago. Poof. So, pencils will be sharpened and plans will be made over April. We'll be fine, I guess. I feel sorry for other people who don't have a cushion.
0 Days Ago. Today. March 30th. Here we are. Two weeks ago I said goodbye to my Airbnb Guests, and managed to weasel in a massage and a haircut just moments before these services were closed down. We had a mild COVID-19 scare, which has since proven to be, thankfully, unjustified. Now it's just me and the wife and the dog in the house. She works from home. I go shopping once per week. We interact with people thorough our tech, or from 2 metres away if we have to. I ride my bike for exercise, but I sure don't get close to folks or interact with them. I worry that one day I'll be told not to do that.
And, of course, money is tight, but I guess that's one of the reasons I call it "The Tightening".
I realize that we all have stories like this. I just wanted to share mine.
Be well. Stay in. Maybe have a beer?
via GIPHY
ps. This morning, just before I posted this, I got a new Airbnb booking for August. Wifey and I shared a chuckle over our morning coffee. A young couple from Utah seem to be planning for a post-COVID future by mid-summer, even though the border is currently closed. Bless them. I appreciate their optimism, if not their realism.
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