Friday, April 17 (Night)
Today was an interesting day to say the very least. I felt outside of myself for much of it.
I think things really started to set in today. I know people have it worse, I know I’m sitting relatively well, and in the grand scheme of the whole world, I have very little to complain about. Some people I know feel guilty for feeling happy during this situation. I suppose I feel guilty for not feeling happy.
But tomorrow would have been prom. I would’ve been sad, I’m sure, just a little bit, because I think often of time and how quickly it moves. But that sadness is nothing compared to this alternative. It still doesn’t completely feel real, and I guess that’s why I felt beyond myself.
But I earned that prom, in a way. I deserved my senior prom. We all deserved our senior prom.
After experiencing all of these feelings, I took a drive to the high school. Ironic, actually. I had to pick up a shirt I had ordered for a club. Leaving the neighborhood, after some brief car troubles, I heard “Let it Be” by the Beatles. That was something I needed to hear at the time.
When I arrived at the school, the entrance was blocked by a couple of wimpy orange cones. It’s as if the cones were told to barricade the entrance, and guard it with their lives, but they really didn’t want to. So they acted like they did so they wouldn’t face consequences.
I talked to my teacher briefly while picking up the shirt, but that didn’t feel real either. I feel bad, because I don’t think I seemed real friendly. But on the other hand, again, I don’t really think I was fully dropped in. I don’t think I have been for a while.
On the way home, I chose to take a bit of an extended drive, taking the long way around back to my house. I heard a few songs that sparked memories and emotions. “Space Oddity” by David Bowie hearkened back memories of late night discussions with fellow yearbook staff members, and how Junior year was amazing in its own ways. It’s kind of funny, actually; until now, junior year didn’t seem all that great. It certainly built up to a wonderful ending and it was a great story, but the academics were hard and I was having to build myself back up from the previous year. I suppose that’s what makes it seem so idyllic now; things weren’t always great, but they were on an upswing. They were stable, too, and the few people really closely around me made me feel like a character in an indie movie. I don’t quite know how to describe it, it was just so mystic, and unique from other experiences. I learned a lot from the people around me that year.
I also heard “Running on Empty” by Jackson Browne. That has got to be one of my favorite songs. As this song came on, I was driving by the same group of people on the corner that had been there on Easter. I would love to know their story. They also sort of reminded me of an indie movie. Things must be awful for them, but they always seem to be happy and moving during discussions as though they’re talking about the most world-changing things. Perhaps they are.
And as I drove through my city’s equivalent of The Valley of Ashes, with near-barren tenement buildings overlooking unpaved roads and old farmhouses, I came to the conclusion that people still seem to be in a too much of a hurry, and not just while driving.
I think things really started to set in today. I know people have it worse, I know I’m sitting relatively well, and in the grand scheme of the whole world, I have very little to complain about. Some people I know feel guilty for feeling happy during this situation. I suppose I feel guilty for not feeling happy.
But tomorrow would have been prom. I would’ve been sad, I’m sure, just a little bit, because I think often of time and how quickly it moves. But that sadness is nothing compared to this alternative. It still doesn’t completely feel real, and I guess that’s why I felt beyond myself.
But I earned that prom, in a way. I deserved my senior prom. We all deserved our senior prom.
After experiencing all of these feelings, I took a drive to the high school. Ironic, actually. I had to pick up a shirt I had ordered for a club. Leaving the neighborhood, after some brief car troubles, I heard “Let it Be” by the Beatles. That was something I needed to hear at the time.
When I arrived at the school, the entrance was blocked by a couple of wimpy orange cones. It’s as if the cones were told to barricade the entrance, and guard it with their lives, but they really didn’t want to. So they acted like they did so they wouldn’t face consequences.
I talked to my teacher briefly while picking up the shirt, but that didn’t feel real either. I feel bad, because I don’t think I seemed real friendly. But on the other hand, again, I don’t really think I was fully dropped in. I don’t think I have been for a while.
On the way home, I chose to take a bit of an extended drive, taking the long way around back to my house. I heard a few songs that sparked memories and emotions. “Space Oddity” by David Bowie hearkened back memories of late night discussions with fellow yearbook staff members, and how Junior year was amazing in its own ways. It’s kind of funny, actually; until now, junior year didn’t seem all that great. It certainly built up to a wonderful ending and it was a great story, but the academics were hard and I was having to build myself back up from the previous year. I suppose that’s what makes it seem so idyllic now; things weren’t always great, but they were on an upswing. They were stable, too, and the few people really closely around me made me feel like a character in an indie movie. I don’t quite know how to describe it, it was just so mystic, and unique from other experiences. I learned a lot from the people around me that year.
I also heard “Running on Empty” by Jackson Browne. That has got to be one of my favorite songs. As this song came on, I was driving by the same group of people on the corner that had been there on Easter. I would love to know their story. They also sort of reminded me of an indie movie. Things must be awful for them, but they always seem to be happy and moving during discussions as though they’re talking about the most world-changing things. Perhaps they are.
And as I drove through my city’s equivalent of The Valley of Ashes, with near-barren tenement buildings overlooking unpaved roads and old farmhouses, I came to the conclusion that people still seem to be in a too much of a hurry, and not just while driving.
Friday, April 17 (Morning)
It’s Friday. I need to get stuff done today, so I can enjoy the normalcy of a weekend.
I saw a quote this morning: The best view comes after the hardest climb. I don’t know where it’s from, it didn’t say. But I think that is very truthful.
I’ve also had Colors of the Wind stuck in my head. There was a Disney sing-along last night, after all, so my parents and I watched part of it.
Perhaps Mother Nature is calling me and telling me to go take a walk today. Perhaps I will this evening.
I saw a quote this morning: The best view comes after the hardest climb. I don’t know where it’s from, it didn’t say. But I think that is very truthful.
I’ve also had Colors of the Wind stuck in my head. There was a Disney sing-along last night, after all, so my parents and I watched part of it.
Perhaps Mother Nature is calling me and telling me to go take a walk today. Perhaps I will this evening.
Thursday, April 16 (Night)
On average in 2019, between 7,000 and 8,000 people died a day. Today, the United States saw over 2,000 deaths from Coronavirus alone.
The United States also surpassed 34,000 total deaths today, and at the time of writing, is closer to 35,000 than 34,000. Earlier in the day, I remember being shocked by surpassing 32,000.
So much for a peak on Easter.
Meanwhile, the Federal government released guidelines today for reopening, when the time is right. Granted, I understand it’s hard to keep everything closed, especially when roughly a third of all counties in the United States haven’t even reported a single case. I also understand these guidelines are on a regional basis, and just suggestions. But even at best, it sounds tone-deaf, when so many people are dying a day. Real people. Not just numbers.
On the bright side, it snowed about four inches today. I know not everyone will agree that it’s on the bright side, but I thought it was quite beautiful. The sky was thickly overcast, which brought visibility down quite low, and the snow came down, nearly sideways, in big, fluffy flakes like I haven’t seen in years. And at the end of the day, the sky glowed that purply color you see after a good snow, and the ground looked clean.
It reminded me of Christmas, the Earth made all pure and clean, like a blank slate, with its imperfections covered up. I’d bet, due to the lower amounts of air pollution, the snow tastes cleaner, too. Perhaps I’ll have to test that one out.
Update: Can confirm: the snow tastes purer and fresher.
The United States also surpassed 34,000 total deaths today, and at the time of writing, is closer to 35,000 than 34,000. Earlier in the day, I remember being shocked by surpassing 32,000.
So much for a peak on Easter.
Meanwhile, the Federal government released guidelines today for reopening, when the time is right. Granted, I understand it’s hard to keep everything closed, especially when roughly a third of all counties in the United States haven’t even reported a single case. I also understand these guidelines are on a regional basis, and just suggestions. But even at best, it sounds tone-deaf, when so many people are dying a day. Real people. Not just numbers.
On the bright side, it snowed about four inches today. I know not everyone will agree that it’s on the bright side, but I thought it was quite beautiful. The sky was thickly overcast, which brought visibility down quite low, and the snow came down, nearly sideways, in big, fluffy flakes like I haven’t seen in years. And at the end of the day, the sky glowed that purply color you see after a good snow, and the ground looked clean.
It reminded me of Christmas, the Earth made all pure and clean, like a blank slate, with its imperfections covered up. I’d bet, due to the lower amounts of air pollution, the snow tastes cleaner, too. Perhaps I’ll have to test that one out.
Update: Can confirm: the snow tastes purer and fresher.
Thursday, April 16 (Morning)
Yesterday ended poorly, but I won’t let it stop me from having a good day today. I mean, I was okay when I went to bed, but my evening was kind of rough.
I never ended up going on a walk yesterday, either. If it weren’t supposed to snow (yes, snow) today, I’d rectify that.
I suppose I don’t have too much to say. Normally in these situations, I’d look for inspiration in the weather. But it’s pretty bland out there. Cold, overcast, and of average brightness.
Perhaps some excitement will happen today.
I never ended up going on a walk yesterday, either. If it weren’t supposed to snow (yes, snow) today, I’d rectify that.
I suppose I don’t have too much to say. Normally in these situations, I’d look for inspiration in the weather. But it’s pretty bland out there. Cold, overcast, and of average brightness.
Perhaps some excitement will happen today.
Wednesday, April 15 (Midday)
I won’t normally blog at this time. But my parents opened the back door while I was sitting at the table, to let our dog out. Sitting there, I caught a whiff of the outside air.
I’m nearly positive it is freshest air I have ever breathed. The air smelled clean. I stepped outside onto the deck, then. The skies were a wonderful blue, too, and it was both cold and warm at the same time. The clouds seemed to shine all on their own.
I thought for a moment, perhaps this has all been worth it for that. I thought, maybe I could stay inside for a few weeks every year, if it meant such beautiful air and skies.
That’s how beautiful it was.
I’m nearly positive it is freshest air I have ever breathed. The air smelled clean. I stepped outside onto the deck, then. The skies were a wonderful blue, too, and it was both cold and warm at the same time. The clouds seemed to shine all on their own.
I thought for a moment, perhaps this has all been worth it for that. I thought, maybe I could stay inside for a few weeks every year, if it meant such beautiful air and skies.
That’s how beautiful it was.
Wednesday, April 15 (Morning)
Literally minutes after my previous entry, the world crossed a grim milestone: 2 million cases. Six zeroes. 2,000,000. That is two million lives (and deaths) that will now always remember this, not to mention their families.
I could say more, but I think it is important to let that stand alone.
I could say more, but I think it is important to let that stand alone.
Tuesday, April 14 (Almost Midnight)
I was accomplished today, with yearbook and school work. Getting back into the swing of work will be easier than I expected I think. This is overall getting simultaneously harder and easier. Easier, because it’s becoming more routine. Harder, because the routine has not involved a lot of work, and now I have work to do again.
Only two things really stood out to me today though. The United States surpassed not only 25,000 deaths today, but also 26,000. That’s new from when I last checked a few hours ago. Although I think I heard something that some of those may have come from corrected estimates out of New York—they weren’t counting certain suspected cases that caused death until today, and then gave a large numerical update. The country has also apparently administered over 3 million tests. But I’m getting sidetracked. The other thing that really stuck out to me was a statement put out by Harvard researchers. They apparently estimate this isolation could last until 2022, if no vaccine is discovered. That terrified me, despite the fact that I optimistically believe one will be discovered sooner.
Lord, I hope. Humans are not meant to be alone for that long. There is only so much the world can handle.
Only two things really stood out to me today though. The United States surpassed not only 25,000 deaths today, but also 26,000. That’s new from when I last checked a few hours ago. Although I think I heard something that some of those may have come from corrected estimates out of New York—they weren’t counting certain suspected cases that caused death until today, and then gave a large numerical update. The country has also apparently administered over 3 million tests. But I’m getting sidetracked. The other thing that really stuck out to me was a statement put out by Harvard researchers. They apparently estimate this isolation could last until 2022, if no vaccine is discovered. That terrified me, despite the fact that I optimistically believe one will be discovered sooner.
Lord, I hope. Humans are not meant to be alone for that long. There is only so much the world can handle.
Tuesday, April 14 (Morning)
I’m sorry I’ve been away for a few days. There was a glitch occurring that caused my website to crash every time I tried to edit it. It got me thinking about how, in these times of separation, we’ve been relying more on technology. I was without this outlet for a few days, because my technology failed me, and I did feel a little less connected. So when technology fails, after we already can’t interact in person, what are we left with?
I even had a dream about it last night. I was on vacation with a lot of people, and my phone bounced out of my hands into a large, wide-open sewer grate. When I tried to find a cheap burner phone to at least let people know what happened and for communication with others also on the trip, two ladies at a convenience store led me to their coffee station. I was perplexed.
Anyway, Easter was fine. Not too much happened. I stayed inside with my parents and played games. I did a little bit of school work. I almost completely finished cleaning my room. The usual. It did snow, though, on what’s generally considered the most stereotypically Spring day of Spring. I thought that was funny. You’ve gotta love living in the Midwest.
That night I dreamt so normally, I actually forgot what all was happening. I woke up yesterday, on Monday, prepared to take on the day. I worked on yearbook work for several hours. My coeditor and I wrote our letter from the editors. It was quite challenging to put into so few words what we’ve been living for the past four weeks. (God, is that really all?)
I also heard back from someone at my prospective college after a week and a half of trying. I didn’t want to keep bothering my admissions counselor when I could be emailing the specific departments. It’s been hard to communicate and work from home, I understand that, but there should be someone working in each of the departments still. Regardless, I did hear back, and then got quite excited about the speech and debate program. I’m getting more excited for college, that’s for sure. College will be a very important stepping stone in my life, for sure. But the difference between college and high school is college will be a part of my life, whereas high school was my life.
I loved high school. I didn’t always love all the people, or the petty drama, or the substitute teachers that didn’t know what they were talking about. But I loved my people. I loved the minimal drama around me, that I was involved, yet above it all. People asked my opinion, I asked theirs. We helped each other out in a way unique to that time. Sure, adults help each other out and so do little kids. But high school is just such a unique atmosphere. That’s what I loved. That’s what I will miss.
That last paragraph being mostly past tense just about killed me.
I even had a dream about it last night. I was on vacation with a lot of people, and my phone bounced out of my hands into a large, wide-open sewer grate. When I tried to find a cheap burner phone to at least let people know what happened and for communication with others also on the trip, two ladies at a convenience store led me to their coffee station. I was perplexed.
Anyway, Easter was fine. Not too much happened. I stayed inside with my parents and played games. I did a little bit of school work. I almost completely finished cleaning my room. The usual. It did snow, though, on what’s generally considered the most stereotypically Spring day of Spring. I thought that was funny. You’ve gotta love living in the Midwest.
That night I dreamt so normally, I actually forgot what all was happening. I woke up yesterday, on Monday, prepared to take on the day. I worked on yearbook work for several hours. My coeditor and I wrote our letter from the editors. It was quite challenging to put into so few words what we’ve been living for the past four weeks. (God, is that really all?)
I also heard back from someone at my prospective college after a week and a half of trying. I didn’t want to keep bothering my admissions counselor when I could be emailing the specific departments. It’s been hard to communicate and work from home, I understand that, but there should be someone working in each of the departments still. Regardless, I did hear back, and then got quite excited about the speech and debate program. I’m getting more excited for college, that’s for sure. College will be a very important stepping stone in my life, for sure. But the difference between college and high school is college will be a part of my life, whereas high school was my life.
I loved high school. I didn’t always love all the people, or the petty drama, or the substitute teachers that didn’t know what they were talking about. But I loved my people. I loved the minimal drama around me, that I was involved, yet above it all. People asked my opinion, I asked theirs. We helped each other out in a way unique to that time. Sure, adults help each other out and so do little kids. But high school is just such a unique atmosphere. That’s what I loved. That’s what I will miss.
That last paragraph being mostly past tense just about killed me.
Saturday, April 11 (Night)
The U.S. reached and surpassed 20,000 deaths today. I felt like crying when it happened. Not for long—it was a fleeting feeling and I was in the middle of a game with my parents, so that was fun. But yeah, it hurt a little to hear.
The latest news is that the peak is supposed to be tomorrow, on Easter. How interesting is that? Say what you want about religion, but I think that’s a sign from the forces that be, whatever those forces exactly are, whatever you believe. On the flip side of the same coin, though, I also heard Friday would be the peak a few days ago. Who knows if the peak is really coming soon?
If the peak is Sunday, however, I feel confident that there’s only six more weeks of this. That’s three weeks to recover all of those people sick now, plus three more weeks for any later cases to recover and for any exposed people to show symptoms or not. I don’t know if it will be completely over in six weeks, and I know I am being a bit hopeful, but I think the return to normal will begin around then. From there, we’ll be on to the next challenge: returning to the old normal.
God only knows.
The latest news is that the peak is supposed to be tomorrow, on Easter. How interesting is that? Say what you want about religion, but I think that’s a sign from the forces that be, whatever those forces exactly are, whatever you believe. On the flip side of the same coin, though, I also heard Friday would be the peak a few days ago. Who knows if the peak is really coming soon?
If the peak is Sunday, however, I feel confident that there’s only six more weeks of this. That’s three weeks to recover all of those people sick now, plus three more weeks for any later cases to recover and for any exposed people to show symptoms or not. I don’t know if it will be completely over in six weeks, and I know I am being a bit hopeful, but I think the return to normal will begin around then. From there, we’ll be on to the next challenge: returning to the old normal.
God only knows.
Saturday, April 11 (Late Morning)
Last night, my girlfriend and I watched part of another movie long distance. It’s been working much better since I logged into some streaming services on my phone.
We watched part of Marriage Story. I think it’s a very good study in what lack of communication can lead to. I always say communication is key, and I think that’s especially important in times like this, for all sorts of relationships, not just romantic ones.
It was also brought to my attention by a few people yesterday, some unexpected mental health problems that could come of this pandemic. Of course the separation is hard on people, so you’d expect everything associated with that. But a couple people brought up that eventually, as people start to get used to this, going back will become harder. I don’t think students will struggle quite as much with that one, because it’s like a longer summer vacation. I think going into college may be a little harder, however. I don’t want to lose my work ethic. But where is the line between normal senioritis and this?
Someone also brought up how the push to create something in these hard times could be adding stress to people. Some people just can’t, so them constantly hearing from the world how they should must be adding stress.
I suppose just like any big thing that happens, some good things will come of this, and some bad. Some we’ll have expected, others we won’t.
We watched part of Marriage Story. I think it’s a very good study in what lack of communication can lead to. I always say communication is key, and I think that’s especially important in times like this, for all sorts of relationships, not just romantic ones.
It was also brought to my attention by a few people yesterday, some unexpected mental health problems that could come of this pandemic. Of course the separation is hard on people, so you’d expect everything associated with that. But a couple people brought up that eventually, as people start to get used to this, going back will become harder. I don’t think students will struggle quite as much with that one, because it’s like a longer summer vacation. I think going into college may be a little harder, however. I don’t want to lose my work ethic. But where is the line between normal senioritis and this?
Someone also brought up how the push to create something in these hard times could be adding stress to people. Some people just can’t, so them constantly hearing from the world how they should must be adding stress.
I suppose just like any big thing that happens, some good things will come of this, and some bad. Some we’ll have expected, others we won’t.
Friday, April 10 (Evening)
Today felt good.
I got a package from my future college, with a t-shirt, some buttons, a portable charger, and best of all—some socks! All with the emblem of the program.
I visited with my grandma and grandpa in their driveway, while my dad fertilized their yard. “When are ya gonna get a haircut!?” my grandpa asked as he always does. “When this is all over!” I called back. He noted how his was longer than usual, too. My grandma said I’m almost ready for the ‘70s, and I said I’m starting to look like a young Steve Jobs.
I was productive with my yearbook work, finishing up a couple spreads. If I keep doing two a day, I will be done in almost no time at all!
Then this evening, I learned to play a game with my parents. We played three games, each with three rounds, of Tripoli. Since we each won a game, we had a tie-breaking round, which I won. So I suppose that made me the ultimate winner. Poker is hard, though.
Meanwhile, it’s crazy to me how long this situation has really been going on—America had its first confirmed case in late January, according to something I saw. I didn’t even start thinking about it until the end of February, when community-spreading began in the three states on the West coast. Even then, it was only brought up occasionally. My friends and I all thought February seemed to last forever, now here we are in this situation, that began at the end of February. What a cruel twist of irony that is.
This really did take us by storm all of a sudden, it seems. It could’ve been slowed earlier by the government taking more action, I’ll admit that and whole-heartedly agree. But even then, no one was talking about it, minus the occasional talking head on the news. This was not kitchen-table discussion. This was not shouted from the pulpit. This was not a political rallying subject.
Everything always seems normal in my quiet, sleepy corner of a mid-size midwestern city. We have the occasional crime, but we have never before known anything like this, not even remotely close. And it seems we weren’t alone in our naivety.
The whole country, looking back, seems like it was naive. Is this the price we must pay for lack of knowledge, education, and information?
I got a package from my future college, with a t-shirt, some buttons, a portable charger, and best of all—some socks! All with the emblem of the program.
I visited with my grandma and grandpa in their driveway, while my dad fertilized their yard. “When are ya gonna get a haircut!?” my grandpa asked as he always does. “When this is all over!” I called back. He noted how his was longer than usual, too. My grandma said I’m almost ready for the ‘70s, and I said I’m starting to look like a young Steve Jobs.
I was productive with my yearbook work, finishing up a couple spreads. If I keep doing two a day, I will be done in almost no time at all!
Then this evening, I learned to play a game with my parents. We played three games, each with three rounds, of Tripoli. Since we each won a game, we had a tie-breaking round, which I won. So I suppose that made me the ultimate winner. Poker is hard, though.
Meanwhile, it’s crazy to me how long this situation has really been going on—America had its first confirmed case in late January, according to something I saw. I didn’t even start thinking about it until the end of February, when community-spreading began in the three states on the West coast. Even then, it was only brought up occasionally. My friends and I all thought February seemed to last forever, now here we are in this situation, that began at the end of February. What a cruel twist of irony that is.
This really did take us by storm all of a sudden, it seems. It could’ve been slowed earlier by the government taking more action, I’ll admit that and whole-heartedly agree. But even then, no one was talking about it, minus the occasional talking head on the news. This was not kitchen-table discussion. This was not shouted from the pulpit. This was not a political rallying subject.
Everything always seems normal in my quiet, sleepy corner of a mid-size midwestern city. We have the occasional crime, but we have never before known anything like this, not even remotely close. And it seems we weren’t alone in our naivety.
The whole country, looking back, seems like it was naive. Is this the price we must pay for lack of knowledge, education, and information?
Thursday, April 9 (Night)
Today was Maundy Thursday, which remembers the Last Supper shared between Jesus and his disciples. It’s arguably my favorite religious holiday that isn’t Christmas or Easter.
It is a sacred observance, which pays homage to a nice meal with friends, before everything got very real, very quick. The contrasts and comparisons between then and now are quite interesting, actually, and there are many lessons about leadership, greed, comradery, and gratitude, all to be found within the story. I won’t get into them too much right now though.
There are two thoughts I had after realizing the significance of this day.
The first is I miss going to church. I miss the social interaction, the speaking, the feeling of being a part of something greater. I miss the potlucks and soup dinners. I miss communion with bread and real juice in a physical building that’s not my house, rather than the granola bar and soda while watching church on YouTube that has been getting us by.
We would’ve had one of those soup dinners tonight. It would have been very special.
It also occurred to me just how much this quarantine has affected everything. Of course I always know this, but yet I’m always still reminded by something new each time, anyway. Passover Seder is not what it once was and Easter will certainly be different. These observances which, for many, help define and mark Springtime, aren’t moving along like they always used to. It is amazing we’re finding ways for them to be special regardless, but that doesn’t make their days any less hard. It’s hard to celebrate together when we can’t be together. It’s hard to watch nature move forward when we can’t do what we normally do to commemorate its moving forward.
We are a very time-oriented and time-driven people. I wonder if that will change.
It is a sacred observance, which pays homage to a nice meal with friends, before everything got very real, very quick. The contrasts and comparisons between then and now are quite interesting, actually, and there are many lessons about leadership, greed, comradery, and gratitude, all to be found within the story. I won’t get into them too much right now though.
There are two thoughts I had after realizing the significance of this day.
The first is I miss going to church. I miss the social interaction, the speaking, the feeling of being a part of something greater. I miss the potlucks and soup dinners. I miss communion with bread and real juice in a physical building that’s not my house, rather than the granola bar and soda while watching church on YouTube that has been getting us by.
We would’ve had one of those soup dinners tonight. It would have been very special.
It also occurred to me just how much this quarantine has affected everything. Of course I always know this, but yet I’m always still reminded by something new each time, anyway. Passover Seder is not what it once was and Easter will certainly be different. These observances which, for many, help define and mark Springtime, aren’t moving along like they always used to. It is amazing we’re finding ways for them to be special regardless, but that doesn’t make their days any less hard. It’s hard to celebrate together when we can’t be together. It’s hard to watch nature move forward when we can’t do what we normally do to commemorate its moving forward.
We are a very time-oriented and time-driven people. I wonder if that will change.
ThUrsday, April 9 (Morning)
I had a very hard time falling asleep last night. I posted my blog later than intended, then couldn’t stop thinking. Not exactly about this situation, but just in general.
It was bound to happen eventually, though. I’ve been sleeping very well lately, and it happens to me about once a season where I just really don’t sleep well one night.
I talked to friends, though, which was nice. I received a compliment on my blog (thank you!), had a couple very nice conversations (thank you and thank you!), and learned gladiolus flowers symbolize strength (thank you!).
I took a last look at the clock sometime after 4 AM. Despite getting less than six hours of sleep, I’m feeling somewhat prepared for today. I’m going to take it easier, yet still get stuff done.
Maybe I’ll see some birds again.
It was bound to happen eventually, though. I’ve been sleeping very well lately, and it happens to me about once a season where I just really don’t sleep well one night.
I talked to friends, though, which was nice. I received a compliment on my blog (thank you!), had a couple very nice conversations (thank you and thank you!), and learned gladiolus flowers symbolize strength (thank you!).
I took a last look at the clock sometime after 4 AM. Despite getting less than six hours of sleep, I’m feeling somewhat prepared for today. I’m going to take it easier, yet still get stuff done.
Maybe I’ll see some birds again.
Wednesday, April 8 (Night)
I was productive today, and I am proud of myself for it. I did a lot of cleaning and caught up on some school work. Motivation is a powerful tool.
This evening, I was watching the Nightly News with my parents, and my mom commented on how 3 months ago, politics took up the first 20 minutes of the half hour, and now today, Bernie Sanders’ drop out of the race wasn’t even covered for almost 15 minutes.
My mom also mentioned the drive she takes to her work after dropping me off at school. I corrected what she said to “took”.
After two games of triominos, a bit more cleaning, and dinner, I then went downstairs to work on yearbook work. I was making final edits to the portrait and senior ad pages. As I sat there, waiting for pages to upload, listening to “Fire and Rain” and “Baba O’Riley”, I drank a sparkling juice my dad found at the back of the fridge. It was the same kind I would have every day at school. The same crisp, refreshing flavor assaulted my taste buds and burned the back of my throat with acidity. It was wonderful to have a literal taste of normalcy. That moment and the events surrounding it both carried weight together. Was it a mental goodbye? Perhaps a coming-to-terms moment? I’m not sure yet. But seeing all those faces, drinking that stapled drink of my high school career—that was powerful.
Later, My dad asked me what I had going on tomorrow. It was only after I responded “work and cleaning” that I could tell what he was trying to ask. He sounded a little bummed, although he wouldn’t admit it. He’s been wanting to watch some movies with me for a while now, asking every other day. I think he was trying to ask if I wanted to tomorrow, even though he was also busy.
I started to wonder if I’m not learning what I should from this situation.
After all, I was always afraid of time running out, because I didn’t want to leave home. I wanted to savor every last minute of home and what was once normal. I never wanted to let it go. Now I’m wasting my time away on things that mostly don’t matter.
I do, however, only have a few more weeks of work. After that, I will be free, and my parents will both still be home for another several weeks after. We will have plenty of time then. Still, I think I’m going to ask him if we can watch a movie on Friday. It is Spring Break after all—I shouldn’t be doing too much.
Perhaps I’m learning the right things after all.
This evening, I was watching the Nightly News with my parents, and my mom commented on how 3 months ago, politics took up the first 20 minutes of the half hour, and now today, Bernie Sanders’ drop out of the race wasn’t even covered for almost 15 minutes.
My mom also mentioned the drive she takes to her work after dropping me off at school. I corrected what she said to “took”.
After two games of triominos, a bit more cleaning, and dinner, I then went downstairs to work on yearbook work. I was making final edits to the portrait and senior ad pages. As I sat there, waiting for pages to upload, listening to “Fire and Rain” and “Baba O’Riley”, I drank a sparkling juice my dad found at the back of the fridge. It was the same kind I would have every day at school. The same crisp, refreshing flavor assaulted my taste buds and burned the back of my throat with acidity. It was wonderful to have a literal taste of normalcy. That moment and the events surrounding it both carried weight together. Was it a mental goodbye? Perhaps a coming-to-terms moment? I’m not sure yet. But seeing all those faces, drinking that stapled drink of my high school career—that was powerful.
Later, My dad asked me what I had going on tomorrow. It was only after I responded “work and cleaning” that I could tell what he was trying to ask. He sounded a little bummed, although he wouldn’t admit it. He’s been wanting to watch some movies with me for a while now, asking every other day. I think he was trying to ask if I wanted to tomorrow, even though he was also busy.
I started to wonder if I’m not learning what I should from this situation.
After all, I was always afraid of time running out, because I didn’t want to leave home. I wanted to savor every last minute of home and what was once normal. I never wanted to let it go. Now I’m wasting my time away on things that mostly don’t matter.
I do, however, only have a few more weeks of work. After that, I will be free, and my parents will both still be home for another several weeks after. We will have plenty of time then. Still, I think I’m going to ask him if we can watch a movie on Friday. It is Spring Break after all—I shouldn’t be doing too much.
Perhaps I’m learning the right things after all.
Wednesday, April 8 (Afternoon)
I saw a death estimate of 12,009 this morning, I believe. I wondered if it would reach 15,000, having surpassed 10,000 just two days ago. It’s on track to reach and exceed my morbid, wondering guess with seven and a half hours left in the day.
I did some cleaning today. I’m still going to do more work this evening. Things certainly do feel more normal, but I should clarify: I do not mean the old normal by any means.
These are still bizarre times, with bizarre consequences. Things are still confusing. Perhaps we’ll be even more confused coming out of this at the start of summer. So I shall continue to write.
That is crazy: It’s quite possible we’ll spend the entirety of Spring like this. I wonder if the birds that visit and the nature around us notice any difference.
I did some cleaning today. I’m still going to do more work this evening. Things certainly do feel more normal, but I should clarify: I do not mean the old normal by any means.
These are still bizarre times, with bizarre consequences. Things are still confusing. Perhaps we’ll be even more confused coming out of this at the start of summer. So I shall continue to write.
That is crazy: It’s quite possible we’ll spend the entirety of Spring like this. I wonder if the birds that visit and the nature around us notice any difference.
Tuesday, April 7 (Night)
Today was normal. And that’s wonderful. I went to the park. I played games with my parents. I acted as though this were a normal weekend day, or a day during a break my parents also took off.
I didn’t do as much as I would’ve liked, though. This quarantine has an interesting effect. Motivation comes so much harder, not because there’s so much to do and it seems like a hassle, but rather, because time seems limitless.
I mean, I know there’s still a clock ticking away. I know I have to do stuff. I know eventually I’ll still be going off to college. I know time still exists and it’s going just as fast as it used to. But it also seems like I’ve been given more of it. Truthfully, I have been, a little.
Yet it’s a vicious, overwhelming cycle. I know I have more time, so I don’t do work yet. Why do today what I can put off ‘til tomorrow? But then tomorrow happens. Tomorrow happens again, and again. And eventually time will start to run out like it always does.
Because we are in such a unique moment, and because we do have a little more time, we have a lot we can learn and a lot we can accomplish. So I propose it’s important that we take that time and use it. I propose we seize the day. It’s been said, for example, how great acts of creativity will come of this time. People will get stuff done around the house. We have the time to do that one project we’ve always wanted to.
In doing things, we, as people, find meaning in life. Again, a lot of meaning can be found from this. So do your part: fight the lack of motivation, actually do something, and find your meaning.
Carpe diem.
I didn’t do as much as I would’ve liked, though. This quarantine has an interesting effect. Motivation comes so much harder, not because there’s so much to do and it seems like a hassle, but rather, because time seems limitless.
I mean, I know there’s still a clock ticking away. I know I have to do stuff. I know eventually I’ll still be going off to college. I know time still exists and it’s going just as fast as it used to. But it also seems like I’ve been given more of it. Truthfully, I have been, a little.
Yet it’s a vicious, overwhelming cycle. I know I have more time, so I don’t do work yet. Why do today what I can put off ‘til tomorrow? But then tomorrow happens. Tomorrow happens again, and again. And eventually time will start to run out like it always does.
Because we are in such a unique moment, and because we do have a little more time, we have a lot we can learn and a lot we can accomplish. So I propose it’s important that we take that time and use it. I propose we seize the day. It’s been said, for example, how great acts of creativity will come of this time. People will get stuff done around the house. We have the time to do that one project we’ve always wanted to.
In doing things, we, as people, find meaning in life. Again, a lot of meaning can be found from this. So do your part: fight the lack of motivation, actually do something, and find your meaning.
Carpe diem.
Tuesday, April 7 (Morning)
I slept on the couch last night, so I didn’t have to clear my bed off from my cleaning project.
I stepped out my front door this morning with my dad to bring outgoing mail to the mailbox. I wrote a few letters yesterday. What I saw and heard was spooky, straight out of a movie.
Fog. Low fog, down to the ground, assaulting to the senses, yet light. In truth, it bordered on the edge between high humidity and fog. Then, from a tree a few houses up the block, I heard a large crow cawed at some other small birds, then flew off, coming toward us and then flying over our roof.
I miss our Cardinal.
I stepped out my front door this morning with my dad to bring outgoing mail to the mailbox. I wrote a few letters yesterday. What I saw and heard was spooky, straight out of a movie.
Fog. Low fog, down to the ground, assaulting to the senses, yet light. In truth, it bordered on the edge between high humidity and fog. Then, from a tree a few houses up the block, I heard a large crow cawed at some other small birds, then flew off, coming toward us and then flying over our roof.
I miss our Cardinal.
Monday, April 6 (Almost Midnight)
What can be said about today?
I’m on Spring Break, with minimal school work—I only have catch-up work to do—so being at home feels rather normal, for once. I did a lot of cleaning. My room and its reorganization are both coming along rather nicely. I did some reading as well.
Overall, though, I quite forgot what was happening around me. My motivation held, for the most part. I think the music this morning helped. I felt good and accomplished. The day even brightened up, I believe. Dinner was cooked on a grill outside. I joked with a couple friends, “does this count as going out to a wood fire grill?”
A couple bits of bleak news did cross my consciousness today, however: The total United States death toll reached and exceeded 10,000 today. The two weeks of terror has begun, just as the Surgeon General said would happen. The Prime Minister of the United Kingdom was sent to the ICU. That could have ripple effects.
Overall though, today felt normal. I almost forgot what’s happening in the World around us. Almost.
Here’s hoping I seize the day and actually do stuff again tomorrow.
I’m on Spring Break, with minimal school work—I only have catch-up work to do—so being at home feels rather normal, for once. I did a lot of cleaning. My room and its reorganization are both coming along rather nicely. I did some reading as well.
Overall, though, I quite forgot what was happening around me. My motivation held, for the most part. I think the music this morning helped. I felt good and accomplished. The day even brightened up, I believe. Dinner was cooked on a grill outside. I joked with a couple friends, “does this count as going out to a wood fire grill?”
A couple bits of bleak news did cross my consciousness today, however: The total United States death toll reached and exceeded 10,000 today. The two weeks of terror has begun, just as the Surgeon General said would happen. The Prime Minister of the United Kingdom was sent to the ICU. That could have ripple effects.
Overall though, today felt normal. I almost forgot what’s happening in the World around us. Almost.
Here’s hoping I seize the day and actually do stuff again tomorrow.
Monday, April 6 (Morning)
When I woke up this morning and opened my window, I found it was not just cloudy and overcast, but visibly darker. This is by far the darkest day we have had, literally speaking. Hopefully the metaphorical meaning holds off a while, because I’m feeling motivated.
I slept well and am feeling motivated.
The song, “It’s the End of the World As We Know It” came on this morning again, as I was listening on my phone. I looked up the meaning and found an interesting theory: it’s not about apocalyptic fire and brimstone on Earth; it’s about high school debaters who over exaggerate.
Interesting.
I slept well and am feeling motivated.
The song, “It’s the End of the World As We Know It” came on this morning again, as I was listening on my phone. I looked up the meaning and found an interesting theory: it’s not about apocalyptic fire and brimstone on Earth; it’s about high school debaters who over exaggerate.
Interesting.
Sunday, April 5 (Evening)
Today seemed to be the day of opposites and contradictions. Today was hard and today was great. Dickens could be quoted, if you apply our reality as one, rather than the opposites of separate Paris and London.
The clouds were so bright, it was hard to see the blue in the sky. The sun was shining, yet there seemed to be a chill about it.
The US Surgeon General announced today these next two weeks would be the hardest two weeks of many Americans’ lives, and they will define our generation. I couldn’t help but feel as though we’re now at war, and these last three weeks have been a training of sorts, for what’s to come
I now know, through a few degrees of separation, several people who have passed away this week. Friends and relatives of different friends, near and far.
Church was wonderful. My church is a small, yet mighty, bunch. During the recorded video, that we all tuned into at the regular time of 10 AM, the congregation was informed that the church was going to be restarting a tradition: they would be giving out a scholarship to a high school senior in the congregation, to be named after a longtime supporter and member, my great grandfather, who passed away last summer. I was the recipient, which is amazing. But I was so much more touched by the new name of the program. My entire family was touched. In fact, I think all of us cried.
I also did a lot of reflecting on what I was doing this time last year, thanks in part to the memories features of my phone and social media. April Fool’s Day 2019, I wore all plaid to school, just for fun. April 2 or 3, my grandmother came to town. April 3, we made cream puffs. April 4, my brother came to town, and I made a family-recipe casserole. I also found out I was selected as editor of the yearbook that day. Then that weekend, we all went camping, then I spoke at church.
I spoke about how life is good. My life was certainly going well, the life of the church was going well, the state was recovering from a thousand-year flood, and Spring was springing. Life was being revived, refreshed, and resurrected, as Jesus on Easter Sunday.
I wish I could say that today life seemed to be going better, like it was last year. I wish I could say we were coming off of a storm, coming into a new day. But I’m also happy to say, no matter how long it may feel like it will take, no matter how dark things seem now and no matter how long we think this darkness will last, life will get better sooner rather than later.
The clouds were so bright, it was hard to see the blue in the sky. The sun was shining, yet there seemed to be a chill about it.
The US Surgeon General announced today these next two weeks would be the hardest two weeks of many Americans’ lives, and they will define our generation. I couldn’t help but feel as though we’re now at war, and these last three weeks have been a training of sorts, for what’s to come
I now know, through a few degrees of separation, several people who have passed away this week. Friends and relatives of different friends, near and far.
Church was wonderful. My church is a small, yet mighty, bunch. During the recorded video, that we all tuned into at the regular time of 10 AM, the congregation was informed that the church was going to be restarting a tradition: they would be giving out a scholarship to a high school senior in the congregation, to be named after a longtime supporter and member, my great grandfather, who passed away last summer. I was the recipient, which is amazing. But I was so much more touched by the new name of the program. My entire family was touched. In fact, I think all of us cried.
I also did a lot of reflecting on what I was doing this time last year, thanks in part to the memories features of my phone and social media. April Fool’s Day 2019, I wore all plaid to school, just for fun. April 2 or 3, my grandmother came to town. April 3, we made cream puffs. April 4, my brother came to town, and I made a family-recipe casserole. I also found out I was selected as editor of the yearbook that day. Then that weekend, we all went camping, then I spoke at church.
I spoke about how life is good. My life was certainly going well, the life of the church was going well, the state was recovering from a thousand-year flood, and Spring was springing. Life was being revived, refreshed, and resurrected, as Jesus on Easter Sunday.
I wish I could say that today life seemed to be going better, like it was last year. I wish I could say we were coming off of a storm, coming into a new day. But I’m also happy to say, no matter how long it may feel like it will take, no matter how dark things seem now and no matter how long we think this darkness will last, life will get better sooner rather than later.
Saturday, April 4 (Night)
The last 24 hours have felt relatively normal, for me. I’m very glad I took them to myself, without putting thought toward this virus and its effects—without giving it my time.
I can’t quite say my time has been super valuable. I’ve done next to nothing. (I really do need to catch up on school work, but I’ll have time this week, as we’re on “Spring Break” now.) The most exciting thing I did was go out to get McDonald’s all-day breakfast with my parents around midday today. The drive-through window was covered with a face shield. It sort of reminded me of going to a movie theater, and trading money for tickets through the little hole at the bottom of the glass that separates you from another breathing human. My parents and I proceeded to play Super Mario Bros Wii for three hours.
However, as I come back to the reality this has become, I am faced with a stark truth: I could be in a much worse situation. My life, while different from the old normal, the usual, has remained relatively stable. Sure, I don’t get to finish out my school year. There’s no more walks through the hallways, no more homeroom breakfast pizzas and chocolate milk, no more long treks to the art room, and no more sitting around crowded spaces and laughing.
But I still have the important people in my life. I mentioned earlier, so many people are facing this hardship on top of existing ones. Others are experiencing that in reverse order; the virus situation happened, and then another hardship happened after. Whatever the case, I can’t imagine what that must be like. I can only say I feel sad and empty for those experiencing such an existence.
Friends from far away: I’m thinking of you.
I can’t quite say my time has been super valuable. I’ve done next to nothing. (I really do need to catch up on school work, but I’ll have time this week, as we’re on “Spring Break” now.) The most exciting thing I did was go out to get McDonald’s all-day breakfast with my parents around midday today. The drive-through window was covered with a face shield. It sort of reminded me of going to a movie theater, and trading money for tickets through the little hole at the bottom of the glass that separates you from another breathing human. My parents and I proceeded to play Super Mario Bros Wii for three hours.
However, as I come back to the reality this has become, I am faced with a stark truth: I could be in a much worse situation. My life, while different from the old normal, the usual, has remained relatively stable. Sure, I don’t get to finish out my school year. There’s no more walks through the hallways, no more homeroom breakfast pizzas and chocolate milk, no more long treks to the art room, and no more sitting around crowded spaces and laughing.
But I still have the important people in my life. I mentioned earlier, so many people are facing this hardship on top of existing ones. Others are experiencing that in reverse order; the virus situation happened, and then another hardship happened after. Whatever the case, I can’t imagine what that must be like. I can only say I feel sad and empty for those experiencing such an existence.
Friends from far away: I’m thinking of you.
Friday, April 3 (Morning)
Last night, as I was slowly drifting away to sleep, I felt empty. There was a hunger, hunger for something that just wasn’t there. It’s gone for now, thankfully
I also wondered yesterday evening whether I had been speaking less. And how much less? My jaw was beginning to feel more tense, after all, but that could also be from stress.
Meanwhile, I’ve been sitting in an office chair to help my back. I’ve—regrettably—been wearing my hair up to keep it out of my eyes. Between you and me, I’ve started to like it, just a tiny bit. I would really prefer a haircut, though. Just not enough yet to let my parents do it.
Humans are extremely adaptable creatures, and I think people tend to forget that. Nothing short of a large meteor hitting the Earth could wipe out the entire species. In every catastrophe, no matter how large or small, people will take whatever means necessary to survive. I suppose you could measure crises by how extreme people’s reactions are.
This is no different. So I think we must be doing pretty okay. There’s no Purge in the streets yet, after all.
I am an optimist, this is true, but I still would like to believe this will be over by the end of May, and the death count will be on the lower end of the projected range.
I also wondered yesterday evening whether I had been speaking less. And how much less? My jaw was beginning to feel more tense, after all, but that could also be from stress.
Meanwhile, I’ve been sitting in an office chair to help my back. I’ve—regrettably—been wearing my hair up to keep it out of my eyes. Between you and me, I’ve started to like it, just a tiny bit. I would really prefer a haircut, though. Just not enough yet to let my parents do it.
Humans are extremely adaptable creatures, and I think people tend to forget that. Nothing short of a large meteor hitting the Earth could wipe out the entire species. In every catastrophe, no matter how large or small, people will take whatever means necessary to survive. I suppose you could measure crises by how extreme people’s reactions are.
This is no different. So I think we must be doing pretty okay. There’s no Purge in the streets yet, after all.
I am an optimist, this is true, but I still would like to believe this will be over by the end of May, and the death count will be on the lower end of the projected range.