Six Feet of Separation

Up and down. Maybe the best three words I could come up with to describe my mood. Covid 19 - the new era of abnormal. Like you, I’m trying to file off the “AB” to make these times feel like a new normal. Sometimes I do it well, sometimes I do it appallingly. Up and down. 

Sometimes I just want to crouch down and put my hands over my head as the surge comes. I wonder if that’s how people of the village of Pompei felt in 79 A.D. as Mount Vesuvius spilled its guts.  They knew what was coming and they could do nothing but close their eyes and crouch under the bed and wait. 

But all is not lost. I’m a stickler for the rules of the day that involve physical distancing. That rule and keeping our hands clean and away from our face are our best weapons. I’m doing a pretty good job on the hand versus face thing, which is really hard when you’re old like me because I’m always massaging my eyelids when I’m tired- and I’m notorious for picking my nose. Yes folks I confess I do that once in a while when no one is looking. Talk about mining a vessel for the virus right?  But yes, I’m doing my due diligence socially and keeping my hands washed and my fingers away from my face.  

And I when I’m not at work I go home and I stay home. I work in healthcare and while I am nowhere close to being a frontline healthcare worker (those are the heroes of our time) I do my job and then I go home. 

I haven’t been able to be with my daughters, my grandchildren, or my parents, in about four weeks. The lovely gent in my life, 'Mr. G,' lives in the U.S. town across the mighty Rainy River and with the border closed indefinitely, I haven’t had a hug in weeks, and I love to hug. However I’m all for the border closure because it’s a necessary defence mechanism in this viral war, BUT physical distancing has new meaning when you live alone in times such as these. Sure there’s “simulated togetherness” places to meet - ‘FaceTime’ and so on - but if you are reading this and you’ve been isolating with your spouse and your children for a time, and even though you could pull your hair out and run screaming room to room staying home 24-7 with each other - you have the opportunity to hug and kiss them every day, and wake up next to someone you love - so please appreciate the blessing some of us do not have right now. 

Thankfully "Me, Myself, and I" get along really well together. I’m a poster girl for “on solo” - mostly because I talk to myself a lot. I discuss the news, swap ideas with myself, answer my own questions, argue with my decisions, and laugh at my own jokes. I talk to my little farmhouse as if it was a friend and oh, of course I have ‘Alexa’ in every room and she’s a good go-to when I get bored of my own voice. I’ve also heard that Samuel L. Jackson is to be the next new voice of ‘Alexa’, and when that happens, look out. 

As a “Solo Me-O,” if I start feeling like a “Dorothy Downer,” I  just cook myself a really good meal and have a glass of wine, maybe three, and I’m fine.  Ha.  Who am I kidding.

As long as I don’t run out of rice and flour I’ll be good. I had some foresight to prepare my food pantry for these coming rollercoaster weeks and months, but then again I live alone so I don’t need 150 boxes of Kraft Dinner and 200 rolls of toilet paper. 

In fact, I had a great idea on how to solve the toilet paper crisis in my neck of the woods. I purchased a Bidet. Best idea ever. I installed it successfully by myself, plumbing and all. I tested the spray button before I sat down, unaware that the water sprays straight up in the direction of “the behind.” I had the lid up and nearly lost an eyeball - ducking just in time as the water shot out of the toilet and all over the bathroom wall. 

Since my Bidet moved in, I’ve not used “TP” in three weeks. I can hear you asking, “How does one wipe after using a Bidet?” I won’t go into detail. There really is such a thing as too much information. Let me just say I have everything in hand. Well, not really “in hand,” but anyway, a Bidet has given me a way to win against the empty store shelf.

In these times of great distress and anxiety and worry and fear of the one thing we cannot see, a little dose of humour and laughter is a good bandaid. 

I look forward to the day when my grandkids can finally come over, and to the first one who uses my bathroom - and with the toilet seat up wonders, “What does that button do?”

Ha.