“These walls are funny. First you hate 'em, then you get used to 'em. Enough time passes, you get so you depend on them. That's institutionalized.”
Day 2 of quarantining. When you're held in a confide space against your will... every time you look up, the walls seem to inch closer and move in tighter. I'm "locked" in a master bedroom suite in the Silicon Valley... I'm going stir-crazy. It's indescribable how much hope and excitement I felt when I rolled up my blinds and opened the window for some fresh air. No, I wasn't outside, but outside came within.
My body continued to struggle... like Jordan in the 1998 Flu Game. Calling into all these meetings.. no one will know how I'm physically struggling. But after every call ended... my body collapsed.
My meals were delivered to me like a prisoner. Joyce would open the door... leave a dish by the dresser... take the used plates and walk out. I will happily go grab the dish. But those 4-5 steps from picking up the plate to sitting down at my desk... is the loneliest walk known to man. Yes, it's a warm meal... but it might as well be Lean Cuisine without being nuked... if I'm to eat another meal by myself. That feeling of loneliness... of isolation... is more suffocating than COVID itself.
Then here I am... complaining some more. When almost all the people I know who are COVID stricken lose their sense of taste/smell... I can still enjoy my cup of brown water in the morning. But last night's lasagna was so salty... it was downright bitter. I wanted to hurl. Hyper-sensitive tastebuds? Ultra-sensitive stomach? Or I'm just physically trying to revolt and rebel against this situation???
The night ended someone more pleasant... as the sun started setting and the cool eastern winds chilled the air... I was able to listen (not watch, mind you) the Warriors close out the WCF. And then... at 9PM PDT sharp... I was able to stream Parts I and II of Obi-Wan Kenobi on Disney+. After that... popped a couple of Nyquils... and Zzzzzz I went.
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