I am not what the kids these days are calling a “maker.” I can’t sew. My visual-motor integration is a known factor of zero it’s a hilarity to those who know me. I got a vague, conditional agreement from someone to sorta watch my back, but who knows. I’ve already been kicked off someone’s team, or to be more accurate, have not been selected. I carry no real skills into the zombie apocalypse. They have endured enough, thank you very much. I’m honest with them, honest as I can be with the knowledge I’ve got, but I don’t want them to live in fear. Much as they might grouse about homework, they’re missing school. I hate this the most, that my kids are worried. In our home, we have enough, but we surely don’t have the bunker of supplies that the bulk of nightly news-watching humanity apparently believes will be necessary to survive these 3-4 weeks (or 8-20 weeks, depending on which news source you follow) of self-quarantine. Read that book you’ve had on your nightstand since forever. Get and stay informed by members of the medical and scientific communities. Please fucking wash your hands as a matter of routine anyway. The opportunistic MLMers trying to sell me and the world their ultra-hygienic, specially-formulated soaps and household cleaning products or recruit people who, because of this virus, are now unexpectedly out of work? Stop it. Please cease and desist the frenzied hoarding.
‘Cause what can you do?īeyond acting like a decent human, I don’t know exactly what we can do, but I do have some thoughts on what you could maybe not do. I’ve not completely lost my shit when my brand new car had to be returned to the dealership for service. Which, I guess the sum total of my public goings-on have occurred at the grocery store, so I’ve let harried people line up in front of me or grab that slab of bacon. I’ve gone out of my way, and I don’t mean just ’cause of social distancing, to be kind to anyone I’ve encountered publicly. I’ve tried to be extra polite and extra kind to the many, many providers’ offices who’ve called to cancel our family’s many, many medical/dental/surgical/therapeutic appointments. But if I were giving advice? I’d say simply this: be nicer. The indescribable burden on health care providers and grocery store personnel alone leaves me exhausted even to think about their experiences. There is nothing cute or funny about global pandemic.
I’m not in health care, nor am I anyone’s news source, so I’m not here to peddle “How to Survive the Pandemic” advice. I’ve probably said aloud “armageddon,” “eerily quiet,” and “apocalypse” more during the last week than in my lifetime previous, and I studied The Walking Dead like it was my job, and also I talk a real lot. If toilet paper and fresh meat supplies are any indicator, society is near end of days.
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