JessicaRulestheUniverse.com

Two-thirds of my overlords

I’ve read some inspirational takes on the current situation, equating staying at home to flatten the curve with storming the beaches at Normandy. What a lovely thought—I wouldn’t go that far, but I agree that the situation requires a great sacrifice. We are giving up our social lives, our career prospects, relationships that have just begun, our fitness regimens, our education, our long-planned trips, many of our civil liberties, our sports, our movies, our entertainment, our weddings, funerals, and family gatherings, our financial security, our lives as we know them, in order to slow down the spread of coronavirus so it doesn’t overwhelm our hospitals and more people die. Maybe we’re not heroes, but we’re martyrs for a good cause.

But we are not staying home for the politicians and their families who are asymptomatic but have pulled rank so they can be tested ahead of the sick people who need tests. For them we train in projectile spitting—indoors, in lockdown.

If we are to get through our survivable martyrdom, we have to win our personal battles against anxiety, depression and despair. Without structure our days become a gravy of ennui, and before we know it we are sliding into the black hole. It is a constant struggle that many scoff at, but it’s real. I need to impose some kind of routine on myself, and set tasks to mark the passage of time.

My checklist:

1. Feed the feline overlords. They have taught me half of what I know about self-isolation (the other half I learned from being an indoor nerd, so arguably I have trained for lockdown). Along with the friends I chat with and the books I read, they keep me sane. And if I forget to feed them, they will remind me that they are apex predators. Then feed the cats downstairs, those sweet rat-killers.

2. Chat with friends. On our chat group we have planned weekly events. On Mondays we dress up as if we were going to work, then we work at home. I just realized that 70 percent of us don’t wear long pants to work. On Fridays we have a WTF film festival, featuring movies like Gagay, Prinsesa ng Brownout (it’s on Studio B) and a Korean movie called You Are My Pet. Alas I could not find Dance-O-Rama ’60 or Joey Gosiengfiao’s Nympha online. The main purpose of a chat group is to support each other—if anyone freaks out, the rest talk them down.

3. Find a patch of sunlight and stand in it for 15 minutes at midday, like mad dogs and Englishmen. I need my vitamin D. Lucky you who have gardens, backyards, balconies and rooftops.

4. Clean the house everyday. Even if it’s already clean. Wash the dishes before going to bed. No stacks left in the sink. Our friend Lord C is a mindfulness coach, and he reminded me that mindfulness—focusing intensely on what you’re doing—makes chores less banal. I was not being mindful this morning when I put the coffee in the French press then poured cold water on it. Wasted a tablespoon of coffee.

5. Exercise.

6. Check on your distant friends. Send virtual ravens.

7. The once-a-week grocery run. The barangay office sent us our quarantine passes. One person per household. Shopping bag on my shoulder, safe conduct pass in my pocket—very WWII spy novel.

8. Watch one Eric Rohmer movie a day. They’re about overthinkers in ordinary circumstances. Remember when we were those people? That was a week ago.

9. Read.

10. Write this journal everyday. Thank you for reading.