A Pandemic. A Post.
I don't know where to start. This will probably come out as a jumbled, off the cuff, nonsense post but maybe I need it. It feels like a lot of emotions are just bubbling under the surface and I no longer know how to cope with them. We have been on lockdown since March 12th. Seventy-seven days. With an infant, a toddler with no end to her energy supply and a husband who now works from home in our basement. I feel like every single day that passes I am closer to a meltdown. I'm closer to returning to work, I'm closer to my oldest daughter because she's only in daycare part time, I'm closer to the can of beer in my fridge. I'm closer to running away and yet I'm closer to my family than maybe we've ever been. I'm closer to forty, and I feel it - hard. I'm also distant. I'm not present in my everyday life... the day just... goes by. Is this how Bill Murray felt in Groundhog Day? I literally wake up and I...