Monday, March 30 (Night)
The last 24 hours have been rough, I’m not going to lie. Last night, I tried to watch a movie long-distance with my girlfriend. Although the idea was cute, and it would’ve been amazing, had it worked, WiFi made it a disaster. Today, I planned on getting a lot accomplished toward finishing up the yearbook. Yet, I put too much focus toward one specific part of it, and have almost nothing to show for what little work I did today. Motivation did not come as I had hoped.
Perhaps the biggest feat I accomplished was sewing up my blanket, which had its stuffing falling out the side of it through a hole the size of my forearm. I’ve been putting that off for literally years. I also took a walk around my neighborhood with my parents. That was very nice, and the weather was gorgeous. It really is the little things.
Today was just frustrating. I don’t know why. I wish I did.
I suppose, though, the things that were frustrating me most were very normally frustrating things. My dog barking, computer troubles, and heat.So I guess I should be thankful for the frustration, caused by normal happenings?
I think I also need to make sure I get enough sleep and eat at normal times during the day. These will help solidify my routine, which may help motivate me and make me get more done.
Here’s hoping for a better day tomorrow.
Perhaps the biggest feat I accomplished was sewing up my blanket, which had its stuffing falling out the side of it through a hole the size of my forearm. I’ve been putting that off for literally years. I also took a walk around my neighborhood with my parents. That was very nice, and the weather was gorgeous. It really is the little things.
Today was just frustrating. I don’t know why. I wish I did.
I suppose, though, the things that were frustrating me most were very normally frustrating things. My dog barking, computer troubles, and heat.So I guess I should be thankful for the frustration, caused by normal happenings?
I think I also need to make sure I get enough sleep and eat at normal times during the day. These will help solidify my routine, which may help motivate me and make me get more done.
Here’s hoping for a better day tomorrow.
Monday, March 30 (morning)
Here we are at the start of another week. I’ve got a laundry list of things to discuss, that I hope to tackle throughout this week with you.
Yesterday came and went for me, which is a pretty big deal, all things considered. Way back in 2015, for some story I was writing, I picked March 29, 2016 as the day the world as we knew it would end, in large part because of a pandemic. So needless to say, I’ve been a little spooked. I’m still convinced I may be just a tiny bit psychic, though.
It also occurred to me yesterday, though, that people are still going through the normal hardships of life on top of this, and I don’t think it’s talked about enough. I knew this before yesterday, too. But for some reason it just made so much sense yesterday evening.
People are still dying from normal causes, old age, health conditions, and the list goes on. The virus has only physically affected so many people, but it’s affected so many more mentally. I can’t imagine what it must be like to have relatives in an old folks’ home or friends in the hospital during this time. The fear of not being able to see them would be daunting and haunting. I would be getting less sleep than I already am.
My heart goes out to people in that situation, along with those physically afflicted by the virus.
Yesterday came and went for me, which is a pretty big deal, all things considered. Way back in 2015, for some story I was writing, I picked March 29, 2016 as the day the world as we knew it would end, in large part because of a pandemic. So needless to say, I’ve been a little spooked. I’m still convinced I may be just a tiny bit psychic, though.
It also occurred to me yesterday, though, that people are still going through the normal hardships of life on top of this, and I don’t think it’s talked about enough. I knew this before yesterday, too. But for some reason it just made so much sense yesterday evening.
People are still dying from normal causes, old age, health conditions, and the list goes on. The virus has only physically affected so many people, but it’s affected so many more mentally. I can’t imagine what it must be like to have relatives in an old folks’ home or friends in the hospital during this time. The fear of not being able to see them would be daunting and haunting. I would be getting less sleep than I already am.
My heart goes out to people in that situation, along with those physically afflicted by the virus.
SuNday, March 29
It was sunny all day today. There was not a cloud in the sky as far as I can remember.
I slept in until 10:30, and then went to watch church with my parents. This week, instead of on FaceBook Live, our pastor decided she would put church on YouTube, I believe pre-recorded. It ran much smoother. I’m also quite proud she’s going to all the effort to learn how to use these platforms so we can be brought peace in these times. She certainly succeeded this week too.
The message was all about having to wait, with the corresponding passage in the Bible being about how Jesus waited to see Lazarus after his death, before coming to revive him.
But our pastor brought to our attentions how, as a society, we’ve gotten so used to not having to wait—for anything. It used to be the doctor made a house visit at the end of the day if you were a priority, and now if your appointment is a few minutes behind schedule, it‘s a sign a bad yelp review is in order. But things still take time. Some things just can’t be rushed, and still require the wait. This is one of those times. She also reminded us that if we never had to wait, we would never have time to mature, change, or grow. I know I’ve certainly done all three during this indefinite wait, already.
“Waiting is not doing nothing, waiting is providing time for things to happen.”
It was a very refreshing, peace-bringing, and mind-opening sermon I’m glad I woke up in time for. It was nice to just sit with my parents for a while, too.
My afternoon was much less productive, but it also felt very normal. I watched some YouTube videos about ancient board games, read through some old journals, and worked on homework I was behind on from the last week. The slight normalcy was again very nice.
Hopefully it can continue to some extent into next week, and bring motivation along with it.
I slept in until 10:30, and then went to watch church with my parents. This week, instead of on FaceBook Live, our pastor decided she would put church on YouTube, I believe pre-recorded. It ran much smoother. I’m also quite proud she’s going to all the effort to learn how to use these platforms so we can be brought peace in these times. She certainly succeeded this week too.
The message was all about having to wait, with the corresponding passage in the Bible being about how Jesus waited to see Lazarus after his death, before coming to revive him.
But our pastor brought to our attentions how, as a society, we’ve gotten so used to not having to wait—for anything. It used to be the doctor made a house visit at the end of the day if you were a priority, and now if your appointment is a few minutes behind schedule, it‘s a sign a bad yelp review is in order. But things still take time. Some things just can’t be rushed, and still require the wait. This is one of those times. She also reminded us that if we never had to wait, we would never have time to mature, change, or grow. I know I’ve certainly done all three during this indefinite wait, already.
“Waiting is not doing nothing, waiting is providing time for things to happen.”
It was a very refreshing, peace-bringing, and mind-opening sermon I’m glad I woke up in time for. It was nice to just sit with my parents for a while, too.
My afternoon was much less productive, but it also felt very normal. I watched some YouTube videos about ancient board games, read through some old journals, and worked on homework I was behind on from the last week. The slight normalcy was again very nice.
Hopefully it can continue to some extent into next week, and bring motivation along with it.
Saturday, MaRch 28 (Night)
The weather was absolutely bizarre today. It swung from a torrential downpour to sunshine, or vice versa, on more than one occasion today. I suppose that sort of reflects my moods, today, too, though.
This morning I went for a drive with my parents to where I plan to go to college. It’s a fairly long drive, with few stops, in parts I’m unfamiliar with, so I figured it would be important to start driving the route in different conditions today to get a feel for it.
Well, on the way out there, the rain was so loud I couldn’t hear the radio, and the road mist made it hard to see anything. I got rather anxious. The way back seemed quicker, and probably was because the weather had cleared up, but I missed a turn so I had to head back to my house the long way around.
Overall, it was a two-hour ordeal, and it made me start second-guessing myself. Second guessing wanted to live off campus made me second guess wanting to go there at all and that eventually led me to second guessing of college is even what I wanted to do, something I didn’t actually ever consider, wanting to be a teacher some day. I was quite frazzled.
My dad came in and talked to me after, and we talked about the drive. He found it easier and nicer than I had, but we agreed after a bit there was no reason to doubt because of just one drive.
We talked a little further about things too, and I realized I started to second guess myself because of this broader situation, too. How can I be forced to make such big decisions when I don’t even know what’s happening tomorrow? This is no time to be deciding about the future, when the whole country is needing to take life day-by-day.
Then we talked about how being at home isn’t the hard part either. I choked up saying the hard part is that this was supposed to be my prime time. It’s as if I’d just barely, almost reached the top of the mountain, and then I woke up from a dream, and the mountain never existed at all. I cried again.
But once I stopped doubting myself, and took a moment to actually feel what I was feeling, I was reset. I was excited again about college, and I had a relatively normal Saturday afternoon, playing cards and watching “Guy’s Grocery Games” with my parents. My torrential downpour turned into a moment of sunshine.
Hopefully tomorrow I can be motivated to actually do my homework from last week.
This morning I went for a drive with my parents to where I plan to go to college. It’s a fairly long drive, with few stops, in parts I’m unfamiliar with, so I figured it would be important to start driving the route in different conditions today to get a feel for it.
Well, on the way out there, the rain was so loud I couldn’t hear the radio, and the road mist made it hard to see anything. I got rather anxious. The way back seemed quicker, and probably was because the weather had cleared up, but I missed a turn so I had to head back to my house the long way around.
Overall, it was a two-hour ordeal, and it made me start second-guessing myself. Second guessing wanted to live off campus made me second guess wanting to go there at all and that eventually led me to second guessing of college is even what I wanted to do, something I didn’t actually ever consider, wanting to be a teacher some day. I was quite frazzled.
My dad came in and talked to me after, and we talked about the drive. He found it easier and nicer than I had, but we agreed after a bit there was no reason to doubt because of just one drive.
We talked a little further about things too, and I realized I started to second guess myself because of this broader situation, too. How can I be forced to make such big decisions when I don’t even know what’s happening tomorrow? This is no time to be deciding about the future, when the whole country is needing to take life day-by-day.
Then we talked about how being at home isn’t the hard part either. I choked up saying the hard part is that this was supposed to be my prime time. It’s as if I’d just barely, almost reached the top of the mountain, and then I woke up from a dream, and the mountain never existed at all. I cried again.
But once I stopped doubting myself, and took a moment to actually feel what I was feeling, I was reset. I was excited again about college, and I had a relatively normal Saturday afternoon, playing cards and watching “Guy’s Grocery Games” with my parents. My torrential downpour turned into a moment of sunshine.
Hopefully tomorrow I can be motivated to actually do my homework from last week.
Saturday, March 28 (morning)
It rained last night and birds woke me again this morning. One squeaky little fella has been pretty distinct in my front yard for a few days now. His call sounds almost like squeaking metal. Then there’s been the usual robins and some kind of black bird, with a sound almost like a crow.
It still amazes me how Nature is marching on. I can’t tell if it’s like the World doesn’t care or if it cares so much that it’s bringing us a sense of normalcy. It’s doing its part, and we just have to do ours by looking for the normal moments.
In other news, I am beginning to accept my position in this more. That’s not to say it isn’t still hard, because it most certainly is. But it’s not quite as hard as it once was, for me personally. I know, however, others are still struggling a lot, and my thoughts are with them daily. Truly, I’ve been thinking about other people much more than usual. It’s been nice, and has sort of made me feel more connected to them, in a way. I know, too, we’re all going through this together. Perhaps that’s been helping.
More connected while being further away... I suppose that’s what the government has been calling for through all of this anyway.
It still amazes me how Nature is marching on. I can’t tell if it’s like the World doesn’t care or if it cares so much that it’s bringing us a sense of normalcy. It’s doing its part, and we just have to do ours by looking for the normal moments.
In other news, I am beginning to accept my position in this more. That’s not to say it isn’t still hard, because it most certainly is. But it’s not quite as hard as it once was, for me personally. I know, however, others are still struggling a lot, and my thoughts are with them daily. Truly, I’ve been thinking about other people much more than usual. It’s been nice, and has sort of made me feel more connected to them, in a way. I know, too, we’re all going through this together. Perhaps that’s been helping.
More connected while being further away... I suppose that’s what the government has been calling for through all of this anyway.
Friday, March 27 (Night)
The cardinal was back today. It was nice to see him again. My dad whistled to him, too, and he whistled back, confused but intrigued. You can tell it’s a him by the bright red colors, as opposed to a female’s pale brown. God painted them so beautifully.
Speaking of paint, I had to go up to school today to pick up some art supplies. The AP Board never rests, so neither can we in preparing for our AP art submissions. It was so eerie inside the school. The art hallway was dark like something out of a horror movie, and I half-expected something to jump out of the boys’ bathroom, with its door wide open still, as usual.
The art room, however, was nice and lit up, as it usually was. There’s a lot of windows in the room, too. But it was still rather dreary today, so not too much light was shining in. I took a video of the room. It occurred to me that may be the last time I ever see it as a student.
It was nice seeing people, too, albeit from a distance. It felt like a full reunion of sorts in the pottery room. I bumped elbows with a couple friends. Human touch from someone other than family was nice. Don’t get me wrong, I love hugs from my parents, but as variety is the spice of life, they say, I think that applies here too.
Either driving there or back, I heard New York Governor Andrew Cuomo’s speech on the news. “So I say, my friends, that we go out there today and we kick coronavirus' ass, that's what I say.” It was an excellent speech. If I ever teach about this moment in history classes someday, I definitely intend to use that speech as a teaching tool.
I was also working on yearbook again today, specifically a page covering our winter dance. At the dance, there were big “2020” balloons set up in the school entrance and our photography staff took a few black and white photos of them. They seemed to be staring up at me hauntingly from the page I was editing, taunting me almost.
I also have less than a week to go, and next year’s editors are starting work on what they have to do for their book. School is out and the country seems halted, but we’re still going. It was bittersweet. I’ve been working on this book for a year, pouring my heart and soul into it. I could probably tell you the order of every page from memory. It’s been my life, and the honor of it, and it’s almost over. The end of my work is near.
To top off my day, while I was on a call for yearbook, my girlfriend apparently came by the house. She dropped of a bag of my favorite applesauce. I’m very glad she came by, and I’m also glad I didn’t see her. Seeing her without being able to embrace her would have been hell.
These last 24 hours have been some of the most reflective I’ve had in a very long time. I think that’s a good thing.
Speaking of paint, I had to go up to school today to pick up some art supplies. The AP Board never rests, so neither can we in preparing for our AP art submissions. It was so eerie inside the school. The art hallway was dark like something out of a horror movie, and I half-expected something to jump out of the boys’ bathroom, with its door wide open still, as usual.
The art room, however, was nice and lit up, as it usually was. There’s a lot of windows in the room, too. But it was still rather dreary today, so not too much light was shining in. I took a video of the room. It occurred to me that may be the last time I ever see it as a student.
It was nice seeing people, too, albeit from a distance. It felt like a full reunion of sorts in the pottery room. I bumped elbows with a couple friends. Human touch from someone other than family was nice. Don’t get me wrong, I love hugs from my parents, but as variety is the spice of life, they say, I think that applies here too.
Either driving there or back, I heard New York Governor Andrew Cuomo’s speech on the news. “So I say, my friends, that we go out there today and we kick coronavirus' ass, that's what I say.” It was an excellent speech. If I ever teach about this moment in history classes someday, I definitely intend to use that speech as a teaching tool.
I was also working on yearbook again today, specifically a page covering our winter dance. At the dance, there were big “2020” balloons set up in the school entrance and our photography staff took a few black and white photos of them. They seemed to be staring up at me hauntingly from the page I was editing, taunting me almost.
I also have less than a week to go, and next year’s editors are starting work on what they have to do for their book. School is out and the country seems halted, but we’re still going. It was bittersweet. I’ve been working on this book for a year, pouring my heart and soul into it. I could probably tell you the order of every page from memory. It’s been my life, and the honor of it, and it’s almost over. The end of my work is near.
To top off my day, while I was on a call for yearbook, my girlfriend apparently came by the house. She dropped of a bag of my favorite applesauce. I’m very glad she came by, and I’m also glad I didn’t see her. Seeing her without being able to embrace her would have been hell.
These last 24 hours have been some of the most reflective I’ve had in a very long time. I think that’s a good thing.
Friday, March 27 (Morning)
We’ve been out of school for almost 4.1% of the year. Six months of this, which experts are saying is possible, would be 5% of the decade.
Whether it lasts that long or not, what a way to start off the decade. My girlfriend and I long ago dubbed it the Screaming 20s as a joke, but I’m beginning to think we may not be too far off.
I’ve been talking with friends via phone calls over the last couple days. That’s been very nice. Hearing their different perspectives was interesting too. One brought up the point that this has been too normal for him. Of course, I didn’t understand what he meant, but he went on to explain how he’s done the exact same thing every day for the past 2 weeks now. It’s been much too repetitive, and it’s going to drive him crazy.
It’s interesting, each person’s personal definition of normal, and how differently each of us adapt to a new normal.
Whether it lasts that long or not, what a way to start off the decade. My girlfriend and I long ago dubbed it the Screaming 20s as a joke, but I’m beginning to think we may not be too far off.
I’ve been talking with friends via phone calls over the last couple days. That’s been very nice. Hearing their different perspectives was interesting too. One brought up the point that this has been too normal for him. Of course, I didn’t understand what he meant, but he went on to explain how he’s done the exact same thing every day for the past 2 weeks now. It’s been much too repetitive, and it’s going to drive him crazy.
It’s interesting, each person’s personal definition of normal, and how differently each of us adapt to a new normal.
Thursday, March 26
I was very busy today, and will likely stay that way for a few days. I have a couple hundred pages to read for English and a yearbook to finish putting together, after all. We still aim to finish this weekend or early next week.
But during one of my breaks today, I decided to turn on some music. The first song that came on was “It’s the End of the World as We Know It”. I felt some irony in that. “Hey There, Delilah” came on after, and I missed people once more. That was about the extent of my music-listening for the day.
Later in the afternoon, I was sitting around the table with my parents, probably watching the news, when my mom saw a cardinal land in our tree out back. My mom told me about an old wive’s tale, I guess you could call it, that cardinals are messengers from deceased loved ones. We wondered if it was my great grandmother, who passed away during the summer of 2017; or if it was my great grandfather from the other side of my family, who passed away just last summer. Whoever sent it, the message was definitely one of comfort.
Speaking of last summer, I did a lot of reflecting today, especially in the evening. Last summer, I was a much more independent person. I talked to my friends only a few times over the summer. I wasn’t happy about it, and I was, in fact, rather disappointed. But I also wasn’t unhappy about it. I did a lot of stuff for myself last summer, because that’s what I needed to do.
But now, I’m a more connected individual. I really came into myself this year, finally, and felt like I’d found my place among solid friends. I need my friends more than I did a year ago.
I also looked through some old journals, and stumbled across something interesting from May 9, 2019:
“Seniors’ last day was today, and it occurred to me that it will be me this time next year. Not ready. Got two pieces of advice from [a senior friend], though. 1) Don’t get senioritis & 2) Don’t panic about the last day until it’s there.”
Boy, that aged well, didn’t it? Note my heavy sarcasm. At least there’s no need to panic about that last day, I guess. It may have already happened. If that’s the case, the day itself was completely painless. Ignorance is bliss, as they say. Even if we do go back before school is out for the summer, I’ll be much more prepared. It won’t be as shocking, I suppose, paling in comparison to this.
There’s something magic about journaling. I’ve been journaling for over six years now, in one form or another. (Thank you again very much for joining me as I experiment with this new form.)
The way time has flown is crazy. Six years ago, when I started journaling, I was in 6th grade. My 6th grade teacher was right about something she told me on more than one occasion: I’ll enjoy middle and high school, and before I know it, it’ll be over. Back then, high school seemed like something straight from the movies, perfection and fun, with a meant-to-be place for everyone. To little 6th grade me, high school was a movie. It had to be.
It was, for a while.
But during one of my breaks today, I decided to turn on some music. The first song that came on was “It’s the End of the World as We Know It”. I felt some irony in that. “Hey There, Delilah” came on after, and I missed people once more. That was about the extent of my music-listening for the day.
Later in the afternoon, I was sitting around the table with my parents, probably watching the news, when my mom saw a cardinal land in our tree out back. My mom told me about an old wive’s tale, I guess you could call it, that cardinals are messengers from deceased loved ones. We wondered if it was my great grandmother, who passed away during the summer of 2017; or if it was my great grandfather from the other side of my family, who passed away just last summer. Whoever sent it, the message was definitely one of comfort.
Speaking of last summer, I did a lot of reflecting today, especially in the evening. Last summer, I was a much more independent person. I talked to my friends only a few times over the summer. I wasn’t happy about it, and I was, in fact, rather disappointed. But I also wasn’t unhappy about it. I did a lot of stuff for myself last summer, because that’s what I needed to do.
But now, I’m a more connected individual. I really came into myself this year, finally, and felt like I’d found my place among solid friends. I need my friends more than I did a year ago.
I also looked through some old journals, and stumbled across something interesting from May 9, 2019:
“Seniors’ last day was today, and it occurred to me that it will be me this time next year. Not ready. Got two pieces of advice from [a senior friend], though. 1) Don’t get senioritis & 2) Don’t panic about the last day until it’s there.”
Boy, that aged well, didn’t it? Note my heavy sarcasm. At least there’s no need to panic about that last day, I guess. It may have already happened. If that’s the case, the day itself was completely painless. Ignorance is bliss, as they say. Even if we do go back before school is out for the summer, I’ll be much more prepared. It won’t be as shocking, I suppose, paling in comparison to this.
There’s something magic about journaling. I’ve been journaling for over six years now, in one form or another. (Thank you again very much for joining me as I experiment with this new form.)
The way time has flown is crazy. Six years ago, when I started journaling, I was in 6th grade. My 6th grade teacher was right about something she told me on more than one occasion: I’ll enjoy middle and high school, and before I know it, it’ll be over. Back then, high school seemed like something straight from the movies, perfection and fun, with a meant-to-be place for everyone. To little 6th grade me, high school was a movie. It had to be.
It was, for a while.
Wednesday, MaRch 25 (Almost Midnight)
Yesterday I was talking with my mom about how long my hair is getting. I needed a haircut before this whole situation anyway, and now I’ll likely go another 5+ weeks without one.
She jokingly said something like, “you’ll need to start wearing a man bun to keep your hair out of your eyes!”
I responded along the lines of, “unfortunately, yeah. Or worse yet, a brony tail... THAT will be the day that I cry over this whole ordeal.”
I was wrong. I did not need to wait until then. I cried today.
This morning, I was given a very nice compliment, and it just occurred to me how much I really miss people. More than usual. I was hit with a wave of emotion. I didn’t cry for long, but it came rather forcefully. That moment is one I won’t soon forget.
I also realized I likely won’t get a proper “senior send-off”. I don’t mean graduation, or prom, or anything like that. I mean on that last day, looking my teachers in the eye, emotional, and thanking them for everything. Getting that proper—it wouldn’t have been goodbye and it still isn’t—“‘til next time”. Meeting them finally as an equal, as an adult by society’s standards, and taking my last steps as a child.
I’m in one of my last phases of “coming-of-age” in one of the most peculiar and abnormal times in American history. What a story this is.
She jokingly said something like, “you’ll need to start wearing a man bun to keep your hair out of your eyes!”
I responded along the lines of, “unfortunately, yeah. Or worse yet, a brony tail... THAT will be the day that I cry over this whole ordeal.”
I was wrong. I did not need to wait until then. I cried today.
This morning, I was given a very nice compliment, and it just occurred to me how much I really miss people. More than usual. I was hit with a wave of emotion. I didn’t cry for long, but it came rather forcefully. That moment is one I won’t soon forget.
I also realized I likely won’t get a proper “senior send-off”. I don’t mean graduation, or prom, or anything like that. I mean on that last day, looking my teachers in the eye, emotional, and thanking them for everything. Getting that proper—it wouldn’t have been goodbye and it still isn’t—“‘til next time”. Meeting them finally as an equal, as an adult by society’s standards, and taking my last steps as a child.
I’m in one of my last phases of “coming-of-age” in one of the most peculiar and abnormal times in American history. What a story this is.
Wednesday, March 25 (Morning)
I had a very normal thought last night, for once, as I was drifting to sleep. I was thinking about my time with the yearbook staff. As we’re roughly in our last week of work on the book before we send it off to the publishing plant, I’m roughly in my last week as editor.
This has been one of the pinnacles of my high school career. In two and a half years with the journalism program, surrounded by wonderful people and motivation, I’m a week out from the culmination of all my work within it.
I’m quite happy with it all. It’s been a blessing working on such a big project with great people; my staff, my co-editor, and my advisors. Things really came together for me all at once this year, and I took a less-than-conventional path to get there. Life dealt me a good hand, after all.
Of course, I am a little disappointed I’m going out with kind of a fizzle, and not a bang.
C’est la vie. I’m satisfied overall.
This has been one of the pinnacles of my high school career. In two and a half years with the journalism program, surrounded by wonderful people and motivation, I’m a week out from the culmination of all my work within it.
I’m quite happy with it all. It’s been a blessing working on such a big project with great people; my staff, my co-editor, and my advisors. Things really came together for me all at once this year, and I took a less-than-conventional path to get there. Life dealt me a good hand, after all.
Of course, I am a little disappointed I’m going out with kind of a fizzle, and not a bang.
C’est la vie. I’m satisfied overall.
Tuesday, MaRch 24 (Night)
I had very little motivation today. But, I made some calls, organized my room a bit, and did some reading. Homework-wise I did very little.
Hopefully it’ll come easier tomorrow.
I also felt down today. I miss normal life. I miss big school projects being the only things in limbo. I miss eating at normal meal-times, rather than having five snacks and two large meals throughout the day. I miss not spending 1/3 of the hours of the day on my phone and more on my computer. I miss having back pain from my backpack, instead of having to deal with back pain from being hunched over a computer. I miss having a more varied camera roll than pictures of food I’ve been making on my own and screenshots of motivational quotes. I miss seeing my friends, and instead have to settle for a burst of joy from a single text I receive, a glimpse of genuine human connection beyond my family. I miss watching the Nightly News then Jeopardy, and having that be the single hour of television I watched for the day.
And then no one knows when it will be over. That’s the thing that gets me. For as big and as powerful of a country we have, Congress can’t pass relief funding, and no one knows when the curve will flatten. The news anchors and politicians have become like friends, welcomed into my home several times a day. I know the Cuomo family on a first name basis.
I tried to unwind today, too, but it just couldn’t happen. My mind just kept wandering. Even though it wasn’t about relevant topics, it was still wandering, and I couldn’t relax.
Pardon this sort of randomly thrown-together post. I didn’t exactly know what to say about my afternoon and evening. But I also didn’t exactly know what to think this afternoon and evening. So I hope I covered it all for you.
Hopefully it’ll come easier tomorrow.
I also felt down today. I miss normal life. I miss big school projects being the only things in limbo. I miss eating at normal meal-times, rather than having five snacks and two large meals throughout the day. I miss not spending 1/3 of the hours of the day on my phone and more on my computer. I miss having back pain from my backpack, instead of having to deal with back pain from being hunched over a computer. I miss having a more varied camera roll than pictures of food I’ve been making on my own and screenshots of motivational quotes. I miss seeing my friends, and instead have to settle for a burst of joy from a single text I receive, a glimpse of genuine human connection beyond my family. I miss watching the Nightly News then Jeopardy, and having that be the single hour of television I watched for the day.
And then no one knows when it will be over. That’s the thing that gets me. For as big and as powerful of a country we have, Congress can’t pass relief funding, and no one knows when the curve will flatten. The news anchors and politicians have become like friends, welcomed into my home several times a day. I know the Cuomo family on a first name basis.
I tried to unwind today, too, but it just couldn’t happen. My mind just kept wandering. Even though it wasn’t about relevant topics, it was still wandering, and I couldn’t relax.
Pardon this sort of randomly thrown-together post. I didn’t exactly know what to say about my afternoon and evening. But I also didn’t exactly know what to think this afternoon and evening. So I hope I covered it all for you.
Tuesday, March 24 (Early Afternoon)
I was wrong. The sun came out of its hiding today for the first time in several long days. It came on slowly, as if taking its sweet time walking forward among a garden of clouds. I was reading when I first noticed it.
Yesterday, I went walking with my parents. I noticed an echo in the neighborhood. It was eerie and the day had a foggy feeling about it, despite not really being foggy.
Today, however, the echo seems to have disappeared, replaced by the chirping of birds and the bark of dogs as people go for walks. I hear not only myself, but the World around me again. A friend of mine said he was going to do gardening-work this week.
Whether we, as humans, want to believe it or not, Spring has sprung. Nature is marching right along into the next phase of the cycle.
To reuse a metaphor, I think we ought to follow the sun. If Mother Nature is hopeful, we should be too.
Yesterday, I went walking with my parents. I noticed an echo in the neighborhood. It was eerie and the day had a foggy feeling about it, despite not really being foggy.
Today, however, the echo seems to have disappeared, replaced by the chirping of birds and the bark of dogs as people go for walks. I hear not only myself, but the World around me again. A friend of mine said he was going to do gardening-work this week.
Whether we, as humans, want to believe it or not, Spring has sprung. Nature is marching right along into the next phase of the cycle.
To reuse a metaphor, I think we ought to follow the sun. If Mother Nature is hopeful, we should be too.
Monday, MaRch 23 (Late Afternoon)
Sometime yesterday, I heard a Beatles song I’ve only heard a couple times before. Come to think of it, I think I heard it in my sleep last night.
Tomorrow may rain, so I’ll follow the sun.
How do you follow the sun if there is no sun shining? It’s been very rainy and overcast the last few days, and I think it’s supposed to keep up.
I also had a very nice, philosophical conversation last night. We started by taking about mindfulness.
Of course, I’ve been staying mindful of my state of mind through this blog, and I’ve been avoiding social media except for the occasional check of notifications, and to message people directly. But what others have been doing is interesting too. Walks, various outlets of creativity, and guided meditations are all things I’ve heard mentioned. It’s quite amazing what people can do when put under stress.
We also discussed still leaning on others for support despite lacking confidence in what we’re feeling. I know the worry of many around me is something along the lines of “oh, they already have enough to worry about. My fears and feelings must pale in comparison.” The truth is, your feelings are your feelings, and if you’re going through your own personal hell, that’s no less valid than anyone else’s hellish feelings. Being concerned your feelings aren’t as rough is no reason to close off, because the world is collectively going through it. People are arguably more understanding now than they have been, and quite possibly are also more understanding than they will be in the future sometime again, after this all dies down.
Then we discussed living in this moment. One of my biggest struggles, even in normal life, is living in the moment, and not thinking too much to the past or the future. And when living through such a turbulent time, that can get even harder. But there is a difference between living in the present and living in the moment. Living in the broad present right now is perhaps more sad than living in the broad future or past. But narrowing down, and focusing in on those little victories, that’s the kind of moment people should be striving to live in anyway. Think of your small victories—the joke you just sent to a friend, the time to do that thing you’ve always wanted to do, the extra time with family, the hours you can spend binge-watching, whatever it may be—and relish in them.
Which brings me to the final thing that was discussed: you. Be there for you before you’re there for anyone else. Take some time out of your day for you. Practice that mindfulness, lean on others if you must, and live for the little moments, which may just be the sun you follow on these grey days.
Tomorrow may rain, so I’ll follow the sun.
How do you follow the sun if there is no sun shining? It’s been very rainy and overcast the last few days, and I think it’s supposed to keep up.
I also had a very nice, philosophical conversation last night. We started by taking about mindfulness.
Of course, I’ve been staying mindful of my state of mind through this blog, and I’ve been avoiding social media except for the occasional check of notifications, and to message people directly. But what others have been doing is interesting too. Walks, various outlets of creativity, and guided meditations are all things I’ve heard mentioned. It’s quite amazing what people can do when put under stress.
We also discussed still leaning on others for support despite lacking confidence in what we’re feeling. I know the worry of many around me is something along the lines of “oh, they already have enough to worry about. My fears and feelings must pale in comparison.” The truth is, your feelings are your feelings, and if you’re going through your own personal hell, that’s no less valid than anyone else’s hellish feelings. Being concerned your feelings aren’t as rough is no reason to close off, because the world is collectively going through it. People are arguably more understanding now than they have been, and quite possibly are also more understanding than they will be in the future sometime again, after this all dies down.
Then we discussed living in this moment. One of my biggest struggles, even in normal life, is living in the moment, and not thinking too much to the past or the future. And when living through such a turbulent time, that can get even harder. But there is a difference between living in the present and living in the moment. Living in the broad present right now is perhaps more sad than living in the broad future or past. But narrowing down, and focusing in on those little victories, that’s the kind of moment people should be striving to live in anyway. Think of your small victories—the joke you just sent to a friend, the time to do that thing you’ve always wanted to do, the extra time with family, the hours you can spend binge-watching, whatever it may be—and relish in them.
Which brings me to the final thing that was discussed: you. Be there for you before you’re there for anyone else. Take some time out of your day for you. Practice that mindfulness, lean on others if you must, and live for the little moments, which may just be the sun you follow on these grey days.
Sunday, March 22 (Night)
I did not expect to be writing this evening. My original plan was to write less on the weekends, so I didn’t have to think about it as much. But I had quite an emotional day, and I should probably write about it.
Listening in to church via FaceBook Live was an experience, to be sure. Despite the buffering every 10 seconds or so, and the connection faltering half-way through and ending service prematurely, it was refreshing in a way. My parents and I huddled around the couch with our dog, as she wanted to play. That was a very enjoyable moment, too. She’s aged a lot, and her back legs hardly work, so when she plays, you know something’s got to be going right.
I also learned today that virtual sports, no matter how realistic they are, don’t bring quite the same excitement as the real thing.
Around the middle of the day, I had an urge to go on a long drive, but then suddenly felt like doing nothing. I couldn’t tell you what caused that or what it was. It was a quick wave of emotions that left my soul as quickly as it entered it.
In the evening, I was working on editing the pages of people for the yearbook, staring at my senior class for about 45 minutes. It hit me that I’ve been with these people for years. Rain, shine, snow, wind, hail, hot, cold, no matter the circumstances, we breathed the same air and we occupied the same space. We held a common belief that no matter the negatives school brought each of us, school was where we came together and gathered. We were supposed to do the same thing every day until May, during which we’d have one final gathering, a last hurrah. I cannot express enough how cruelly that may have been taken away. I hurt not only for myself, but for everyone on those pages. I hurt for every smile and the soul behind each of them. And a side-note, what a cruel twist of irony it must be for those “graduating” early.
I suppose I shouldn’t give up hope. Graduation isn’t cancelled yet.
Class of 2020, I love and miss all of you.
I hate when things are over, when so much is left undone.
Listening in to church via FaceBook Live was an experience, to be sure. Despite the buffering every 10 seconds or so, and the connection faltering half-way through and ending service prematurely, it was refreshing in a way. My parents and I huddled around the couch with our dog, as she wanted to play. That was a very enjoyable moment, too. She’s aged a lot, and her back legs hardly work, so when she plays, you know something’s got to be going right.
I also learned today that virtual sports, no matter how realistic they are, don’t bring quite the same excitement as the real thing.
Around the middle of the day, I had an urge to go on a long drive, but then suddenly felt like doing nothing. I couldn’t tell you what caused that or what it was. It was a quick wave of emotions that left my soul as quickly as it entered it.
In the evening, I was working on editing the pages of people for the yearbook, staring at my senior class for about 45 minutes. It hit me that I’ve been with these people for years. Rain, shine, snow, wind, hail, hot, cold, no matter the circumstances, we breathed the same air and we occupied the same space. We held a common belief that no matter the negatives school brought each of us, school was where we came together and gathered. We were supposed to do the same thing every day until May, during which we’d have one final gathering, a last hurrah. I cannot express enough how cruelly that may have been taken away. I hurt not only for myself, but for everyone on those pages. I hurt for every smile and the soul behind each of them. And a side-note, what a cruel twist of irony it must be for those “graduating” early.
I suppose I shouldn’t give up hope. Graduation isn’t cancelled yet.
Class of 2020, I love and miss all of you.
I hate when things are over, when so much is left undone.
Sunday, March 22 (morning)
Yesterday, I started undertaking a big project I’ve had in the works for a long time. I moved stuff around in my room to make room for a filing cabinet to, in the end, save space.
Doing something I’ve had planned for so long gave me a strong sense of normalcy. For a few brief moments, I completely forgot the situation we’re all in. That was amazing.
By the way, I know I keep using the term “normalcy”. I’ve used it at least half a dozen times, I’m sure. I don’t know what other word would fit better, and it’s an important concept. Many teenagers strive for normalcy even on what many would view as normal days, and still fall short sometimes. This situation, which we know is defining us and the world, is probably the least normal any of us have felt in a very long time.
You’re not alone.
Doing something I’ve had planned for so long gave me a strong sense of normalcy. For a few brief moments, I completely forgot the situation we’re all in. That was amazing.
By the way, I know I keep using the term “normalcy”. I’ve used it at least half a dozen times, I’m sure. I don’t know what other word would fit better, and it’s an important concept. Many teenagers strive for normalcy even on what many would view as normal days, and still fall short sometimes. This situation, which we know is defining us and the world, is probably the least normal any of us have felt in a very long time.
You’re not alone.
Saturday, March 21
It’s a torturous yet blessed life, writing. This blog, this digital journal, has become omnipresent in my life, and I have mixed feelings about that. I’m supposed to journal about my life, not live for a journal. I know it’s for me, but I want you to feel connected and not alone. I know it’s for me, but I don’t want to be just screaming into the void.
People are literally dying out there because of this thing that’s causing me a minor inconvenience, and thus I feel as though if I’m not making purpose out of it, I’m doing them an injustice.
People are dying.
This kept me up last night. I know people die everyday, and this situation is affecting everyone’s life indiscriminately. But some people are paying the ultimate price for it, and their deaths are not like others.
And more deaths will continue to happen, the less we do.
Something in particular has been bothering me lately, but there hasn’t been a good time for it yet. Perhaps now is the time.
I’ve been avoiding social media, because the ignorance and intolerance I see disgusts me. People are still out spring breaking on the beaches, people are overly concerned about money rather than human lives, and a trending hashtag has been “Boomer Remover”.
Meanwhile, people are dying.
Perhaps my hope has come from limiting social media, because without social media I’m seeing positive things in the world. But when I check occasionally, I see a world just as divided as ever at a time when we must be unified.
However, I understand each of us are facing hardships others can’t quite understand, because others aren’t living them. These may be the worst times for everyone, even if someone’s worst is slightly worse than another person’s worst. Regardless, these could be anyone’s worst times. Thus, I hope I’m connecting to you. I hope I’m doing my small part as a drop in the bucket to help bring people together, and to help bridge that gap that exists between you and me.
The more gaps we close in whatever way, the more understanding and knowledgeable of others we become. The more understanding we become, the more unified and stronger we will be.
So can writing be occasionally torturous? Yes. But in a time like this, it’s worth it more than ever before.
People are literally dying out there because of this thing that’s causing me a minor inconvenience, and thus I feel as though if I’m not making purpose out of it, I’m doing them an injustice.
People are dying.
This kept me up last night. I know people die everyday, and this situation is affecting everyone’s life indiscriminately. But some people are paying the ultimate price for it, and their deaths are not like others.
And more deaths will continue to happen, the less we do.
Something in particular has been bothering me lately, but there hasn’t been a good time for it yet. Perhaps now is the time.
I’ve been avoiding social media, because the ignorance and intolerance I see disgusts me. People are still out spring breaking on the beaches, people are overly concerned about money rather than human lives, and a trending hashtag has been “Boomer Remover”.
Meanwhile, people are dying.
Perhaps my hope has come from limiting social media, because without social media I’m seeing positive things in the world. But when I check occasionally, I see a world just as divided as ever at a time when we must be unified.
However, I understand each of us are facing hardships others can’t quite understand, because others aren’t living them. These may be the worst times for everyone, even if someone’s worst is slightly worse than another person’s worst. Regardless, these could be anyone’s worst times. Thus, I hope I’m connecting to you. I hope I’m doing my small part as a drop in the bucket to help bring people together, and to help bridge that gap that exists between you and me.
The more gaps we close in whatever way, the more understanding and knowledgeable of others we become. The more understanding we become, the more unified and stronger we will be.
So can writing be occasionally torturous? Yes. But in a time like this, it’s worth it more than ever before.
Friday, March 20 (Night)
My mom did the math today: the 45th day from now is the soonest we could possibly go back to school.
I can’t say enough how bizarre this is. This is one of those rare, generation-defining moments. I genuinely believe this will be the next cut-off for generations, much like how 9/11 served as a cut-off between Millennials and Generation Z. Which reminds me, I realized last night that my grade, the Class of 2020, we entered the world in the wake of 9/11 and we’re graduating effectively during this. Let that sit for a moment. I don’t know what to make of that yet, but in the words of my journalism advisor, “that’s a thing, for sure.”
I forgot to write earlier about my call last night. My girlfriend and I talked on the phone for a while, then called a friend of ours who lives in Michigan, before our friend added her girlfriend to the call, too. I’ve never met this friend in person anyway, as she was a friend of my girlfriend’s before she was a friend of mine. But that almost added a sense of normalcy to the whole digital experience with friends. It was nice.
My dad and I took a drive this morning, adding to the normalcy, in some respects, too. Every day we always used to track the time it would take to drive from my house to the High School, and we wanted to see if we could beat our record. I think we did by a few seconds. After that, we drove through Wendy’s and Krispy Kreme. We paid in cash and gave each of the window-attendants a tip. They need it. The world needs it. Coincidentally, Wendy’s stock went up today too. I’m not sure why.
The rest of the drive, though, added to the sci-fi feelings. There’s one light by my house that always has at least one car of cross-traffic, even at midnight. Today, there was not a single one. The only busy parking lots were in front of grocery stores and the smoke shop.
I felt less motivated to work today, also. I don’t quite know why. Perhaps the weekend will be refreshing and will help propel me into next week.
I can’t say enough how bizarre this is. This is one of those rare, generation-defining moments. I genuinely believe this will be the next cut-off for generations, much like how 9/11 served as a cut-off between Millennials and Generation Z. Which reminds me, I realized last night that my grade, the Class of 2020, we entered the world in the wake of 9/11 and we’re graduating effectively during this. Let that sit for a moment. I don’t know what to make of that yet, but in the words of my journalism advisor, “that’s a thing, for sure.”
I forgot to write earlier about my call last night. My girlfriend and I talked on the phone for a while, then called a friend of ours who lives in Michigan, before our friend added her girlfriend to the call, too. I’ve never met this friend in person anyway, as she was a friend of my girlfriend’s before she was a friend of mine. But that almost added a sense of normalcy to the whole digital experience with friends. It was nice.
My dad and I took a drive this morning, adding to the normalcy, in some respects, too. Every day we always used to track the time it would take to drive from my house to the High School, and we wanted to see if we could beat our record. I think we did by a few seconds. After that, we drove through Wendy’s and Krispy Kreme. We paid in cash and gave each of the window-attendants a tip. They need it. The world needs it. Coincidentally, Wendy’s stock went up today too. I’m not sure why.
The rest of the drive, though, added to the sci-fi feelings. There’s one light by my house that always has at least one car of cross-traffic, even at midnight. Today, there was not a single one. The only busy parking lots were in front of grocery stores and the smoke shop.
I felt less motivated to work today, also. I don’t quite know why. Perhaps the weekend will be refreshing and will help propel me into next week.
Friday, March 20 (Morning)
I slept with my blinds open last night. It was quite pretty, with the light snowfall and the streetlights shining down. The snow definitely looked out of place, as the night looked warmer than that, but I think that just made the snow that much prettier.
What really astonished me though is how, even without the snow, the nights are a lot brighter than we give them credit for. Normally I like to keep my metaphors subtle, but I think that’s an excellent metaphor for today that everyone should notice.
It’s night for America and the World. Things seem dark, but they’re brighter than we give them credit for... You just have to pay attention.
I also had a dream last night in which I made amends with a rival. Oh how I would if I could.
What really astonished me though is how, even without the snow, the nights are a lot brighter than we give them credit for. Normally I like to keep my metaphors subtle, but I think that’s an excellent metaphor for today that everyone should notice.
It’s night for America and the World. Things seem dark, but they’re brighter than we give them credit for... You just have to pay attention.
I also had a dream last night in which I made amends with a rival. Oh how I would if I could.
Thursday, March 19 (Night)
Even though I’m treating this like a journal, I asked some fellow writers this morning what they thought of my blog. They both said it was good. One of them said it reminded them of a post-apocalyptic journal from a video game. We agreed that’s a good thing and a strength, considering that’s kind of the vibe the world’s got going on right now. The other suggested I be more casual. Thank you both! Thanks to all the rest of you reading, too. You’re giving me purpose in such a confusing time.
I also hope through reading my thoughts, you realize you’re not alone with yours and what you’re feeling.
A lot of changes have occurred today. Late this afternoon, we were told school would be out through May 1, which extends our quarantine by three weeks, if I’ve done my math correctly. My dad is staying home from work now, too. I’m still not financially worried, but I worry for others at his job. And my girlfriend has the flu. That’s good, all things considered, though. We were quite worried yesterday, as her temperature reached as high as 102 at one point.
In smaller news, it hailed today. That sparked a conversation between my girlfriend and I about the Plagues of Egypt. That then led us into a lovely conversation about religion and life and differences. I love our deep conversations. You should consider having one with someone close. They’re really quite awesome and inspiring, and you may learn a thing or two.
I finally solved the mirror cube yesterday (see image for explanation). That had been taunting me for the last several years, scrambled on top of my bookshelf.
I also hope through reading my thoughts, you realize you’re not alone with yours and what you’re feeling.
A lot of changes have occurred today. Late this afternoon, we were told school would be out through May 1, which extends our quarantine by three weeks, if I’ve done my math correctly. My dad is staying home from work now, too. I’m still not financially worried, but I worry for others at his job. And my girlfriend has the flu. That’s good, all things considered, though. We were quite worried yesterday, as her temperature reached as high as 102 at one point.
In smaller news, it hailed today. That sparked a conversation between my girlfriend and I about the Plagues of Egypt. That then led us into a lovely conversation about religion and life and differences. I love our deep conversations. You should consider having one with someone close. They’re really quite awesome and inspiring, and you may learn a thing or two.
I finally solved the mirror cube yesterday (see image for explanation). That had been taunting me for the last several years, scrambled on top of my bookshelf.
Yes, it’s wonky. No, that’s not an illusion. It’s designed that way so each piece has a proper spot, despite the lack of color.
I also attended a few classes digitally today, via video-chat. It was nice to see people, even if half of us looked depressed. Oh, I also showered today.
It will be interesting to see what happens from here.
Yesterday... All my troubles seemed so far away... Now it seems as though they’re here to stay... Oh I believe in Yesterday...
Thursday, March 19 (Morning)
It’s rained for two nights in a row. I’ve dreamed about school two nights in a row too. Nevermind that the second night ago it was about elementary school, and outside by the swings, there was a fancy outside bar—it was still school, and thus, normalcy. At least, more than what the world is offering currently.
The same could be applied to last night, really. This one took place at the high school, but involved a friend and I chasing down another friend to get him to go to class. Also not the most normal. But all things considered, I genuinely did not think it peculiar until this moment.
The city is now officially enforcing the 10-person limit. The restaurant industry is being hit hard.
My mom saw a family walking through our neighborhood last night. I know what my mail carrier looks like, now. And my grandmother asked us for help installing her television. I think this mandated quarantine is bringing the world together a bit, slowly but surely.
No one told me life was gonna be this way...
The same could be applied to last night, really. This one took place at the high school, but involved a friend and I chasing down another friend to get him to go to class. Also not the most normal. But all things considered, I genuinely did not think it peculiar until this moment.
The city is now officially enforcing the 10-person limit. The restaurant industry is being hit hard.
My mom saw a family walking through our neighborhood last night. I know what my mail carrier looks like, now. And my grandmother asked us for help installing her television. I think this mandated quarantine is bringing the world together a bit, slowly but surely.
No one told me life was gonna be this way...
Wednesday, March 18 (Night)
I don’t have too much to say this evening. We received our first homework assignments today from school, and I worked, sitting across from my mom. It felt good to be productive.
I made us grilled cheese sandwiches for lunch.
Perhaps I spoke a bit too soon about my hope this morning, though. With the second community-spread case confirmed in the community, our mandated distancing may extend from 4 weeks to 6 or 8. That would effectively postpone prom, if not cancel it outright.
And what I miss most of all as I drift to sleep this evening is my friends. While we’ve been staying in contact thanks to modern technologies, I worry about how I’ve been acting. Have I been a good friend still? I realize it’s likely in my own head, based on misinterpreting tone. Texting is hard after all. But very few things define a teenager more than his/her/their own self-doubts. And isolation makes them worse.
I made us grilled cheese sandwiches for lunch.
Perhaps I spoke a bit too soon about my hope this morning, though. With the second community-spread case confirmed in the community, our mandated distancing may extend from 4 weeks to 6 or 8. That would effectively postpone prom, if not cancel it outright.
And what I miss most of all as I drift to sleep this evening is my friends. While we’ve been staying in contact thanks to modern technologies, I worry about how I’ve been acting. Have I been a good friend still? I realize it’s likely in my own head, based on misinterpreting tone. Texting is hard after all. But very few things define a teenager more than his/her/their own self-doubts. And isolation makes them worse.
Wednesday, March 18 (Morning)
I slept horribly last night. I was up in the 5 o’clock hour with two distinct pains in my back and indigestion. My thoughts were quietly swirling, too. However, I didn’t notice them until I decided to, and what I found when I did was interesting.
There was a sense of hope. Perhaps hope isn’t the right word, but it’s not quite logical, either. Let me explain: the number of COVID-19 cases has risen substantially in the United States over the past few days, from what I’ve heard on the news. We are in that critical week, where we must either take enough steps to “flatten the curve” and prevent a drawn-out pandemic; or we must suffer the consequences, including a pandemic with deaths possibly numbering into the millions, lasting months.
And although I know not everyone is distancing themselves as they should be, I have a sense of optimism that many are. And my hope, as expressed earlier, is that it’s enough. My hope is that it’s enough to bring things back to normal at the end of these four weeks at home.
After all, it all happened so fast, so if we’re distancing properly and taking the necessary precautions, perhaps it’ll end quickly too?
I realize I’m being a bit naive. I am not an epidemiologist. But if naive hope is what it takes to let me move forward day by day, that’s an offer I’m willing to take.
Let’s see how long this lasts.
There was a sense of hope. Perhaps hope isn’t the right word, but it’s not quite logical, either. Let me explain: the number of COVID-19 cases has risen substantially in the United States over the past few days, from what I’ve heard on the news. We are in that critical week, where we must either take enough steps to “flatten the curve” and prevent a drawn-out pandemic; or we must suffer the consequences, including a pandemic with deaths possibly numbering into the millions, lasting months.
And although I know not everyone is distancing themselves as they should be, I have a sense of optimism that many are. And my hope, as expressed earlier, is that it’s enough. My hope is that it’s enough to bring things back to normal at the end of these four weeks at home.
After all, it all happened so fast, so if we’re distancing properly and taking the necessary precautions, perhaps it’ll end quickly too?
I realize I’m being a bit naive. I am not an epidemiologist. But if naive hope is what it takes to let me move forward day by day, that’s an offer I’m willing to take.
Let’s see how long this lasts.
TuesDay, MaRch 17 (Evening)
I went outside to get the mail around noon today. The world was silent, aside from a few birds chirping, and even they seemed distant and far away.
I was floored.
My suburban neighborhood is never the loudest (except on the Fourth of July). But I haven’t heard it this quiet on a Spring day in ages, if ever.
My mom is working from home from here on out. She brought all of her stuff home today, including a laptop provided by her work. We split the table in half with a piece of painter’s tape, and planned out our work routines. She’s going to start keeping a record of what we’re up to, as well.
Things in my neck of the woods are finally starting to quiet down. It seems as though people are starting to get it, as the number of nationwide cases starts to rise into the thousands.
There’s been a lot of talk in politics this past year and a half about “meeting the moment.” I can’t help but wonder, are we meeting this moment? Are we doing what we have to do? Are we successfully working together by not working together?
I don’t know the answers to these questions. But I do know this is the first time in my life where I’ve lived something so absurd, that I know already it’ll be in history books someday. History students will someday be studying us and our reactions and our responses, both as individuals and as a nation, and they will judge us based on these things and others.
Will they be proud of what they see?
I was floored.
My suburban neighborhood is never the loudest (except on the Fourth of July). But I haven’t heard it this quiet on a Spring day in ages, if ever.
My mom is working from home from here on out. She brought all of her stuff home today, including a laptop provided by her work. We split the table in half with a piece of painter’s tape, and planned out our work routines. She’s going to start keeping a record of what we’re up to, as well.
Things in my neck of the woods are finally starting to quiet down. It seems as though people are starting to get it, as the number of nationwide cases starts to rise into the thousands.
There’s been a lot of talk in politics this past year and a half about “meeting the moment.” I can’t help but wonder, are we meeting this moment? Are we doing what we have to do? Are we successfully working together by not working together?
I don’t know the answers to these questions. But I do know this is the first time in my life where I’ve lived something so absurd, that I know already it’ll be in history books someday. History students will someday be studying us and our reactions and our responses, both as individuals and as a nation, and they will judge us based on these things and others.
Will they be proud of what they see?
Tuesday, March 17 (Morning)
Last night’s post received much more support than I expected. Someone told me to “Preach it!” So I shall.
Some people reminded me they have birthdays over the next few months. It seems such a terrible time to celebrate. Others agreed with the sentiment that it’s unreal. Some expressed to me they hoped they’d wake up from a nightmare at the end of a couple months. Some people want to avoid talking about it, knowing others are sad, too. Others still are terrified.
I don’t blame them. The Coronavirus is all around us. I don’t mean the virus itself, but the entity and aura that the Coronavirus has taken on. It has become the manifestation of evil in our modern lives. It’s in the first notification I see when I wake up, and in the last I see before putting my phone away for the night. It has brought our deepest fears bubbling up to the surface, because everything is a mystery, and we are in complete limbo.
I have long believed that perhaps the biggest purpose of writing is to bridge the gap between my experience and the experiences of others. The words one writes are the keys into their soul and psyche. I don’t know what I may unlock from myself along this journey, and I don’t know what you may find, traveling with me. But I would like to express my sincerest hope that we find love.
I don’t mean the cheesy love, nor the high school fling, nor the deep, romantic passion. I mean the complex human love we seem to have forgotten as a culture. The Beatles once so famously sang, “All you need is Love.”
Perhaps they were right.
Some people reminded me they have birthdays over the next few months. It seems such a terrible time to celebrate. Others agreed with the sentiment that it’s unreal. Some expressed to me they hoped they’d wake up from a nightmare at the end of a couple months. Some people want to avoid talking about it, knowing others are sad, too. Others still are terrified.
I don’t blame them. The Coronavirus is all around us. I don’t mean the virus itself, but the entity and aura that the Coronavirus has taken on. It has become the manifestation of evil in our modern lives. It’s in the first notification I see when I wake up, and in the last I see before putting my phone away for the night. It has brought our deepest fears bubbling up to the surface, because everything is a mystery, and we are in complete limbo.
I have long believed that perhaps the biggest purpose of writing is to bridge the gap between my experience and the experiences of others. The words one writes are the keys into their soul and psyche. I don’t know what I may unlock from myself along this journey, and I don’t know what you may find, traveling with me. But I would like to express my sincerest hope that we find love.
I don’t mean the cheesy love, nor the high school fling, nor the deep, romantic passion. I mean the complex human love we seem to have forgotten as a culture. The Beatles once so famously sang, “All you need is Love.”
Perhaps they were right.
Monday, March 16
Welcome.
Those of you that have known me throughout high school know this website has seen many different iterations and incarnations.
However, I now find myself—as a senior in high school during the most bizarre time of my life—utterly and completely dumbfounded.
From here until who knows how long, I will be documenting my thoughts on the COVID-19 novel Coronavirus and the effects it’s having on myself and those around me.
May I begin by saying this? This doesn’t feel real. It feels like a fever-dream (pun not intended). A week ago, I was stressed about finishing my work as editor of the yearbook and wondering how I’d find time to juggle my school work. Now, in a flash, my senior year could be over. Work is the least of my worries, the Lord knows I have plenty of time to do it all. Nor am I worried about finances, despite the stock market breaking negative records seemingly every day.
My immediate thoughts jump to the occasions and celebrations. That last prom. Graduation. My last finals. Taking AP exams, feeling good about them, and perhaps bad about them, too. Laughing with friends. Spending time in the art room or the journalism room during my free hours. Drinking a sparkling juice at the usual lunch table. These things that I took for granted just a week ago could be gone.
They say be careful what you wish for. They, whoever “they” is, are right. For weeks, I’ve been saying how ‘I’m excited for college, but I don’t want to graduate’, fearing change and a bittersweet ending. Yet in its wake, COVID-19 may have left me without a proper ending at all, the irony just bitter. No sweet about it.
Those of you that have known me throughout high school know this website has seen many different iterations and incarnations.
However, I now find myself—as a senior in high school during the most bizarre time of my life—utterly and completely dumbfounded.
From here until who knows how long, I will be documenting my thoughts on the COVID-19 novel Coronavirus and the effects it’s having on myself and those around me.
May I begin by saying this? This doesn’t feel real. It feels like a fever-dream (pun not intended). A week ago, I was stressed about finishing my work as editor of the yearbook and wondering how I’d find time to juggle my school work. Now, in a flash, my senior year could be over. Work is the least of my worries, the Lord knows I have plenty of time to do it all. Nor am I worried about finances, despite the stock market breaking negative records seemingly every day.
My immediate thoughts jump to the occasions and celebrations. That last prom. Graduation. My last finals. Taking AP exams, feeling good about them, and perhaps bad about them, too. Laughing with friends. Spending time in the art room or the journalism room during my free hours. Drinking a sparkling juice at the usual lunch table. These things that I took for granted just a week ago could be gone.
They say be careful what you wish for. They, whoever “they” is, are right. For weeks, I’ve been saying how ‘I’m excited for college, but I don’t want to graduate’, fearing change and a bittersweet ending. Yet in its wake, COVID-19 may have left me without a proper ending at all, the irony just bitter. No sweet about it.