I stopped writing for a stretch, because it was all the same. Nothing has changed now, except maybe my mind.
This is my job now. I get up, I do a "workout" - in quotes because all it is is pedaling the Fitdesk while I read my emails & the news. I search for good news about the pandemic but it seems it is always bad: that malaria drug isn't panning out. Covid-19 can reappear in people who have recovered. Nowhere near enough tests available and some of those that are, are bogus.
Now I am bummed out, so if the weather isn't awful I take a walk. This is safe in my neighborhood - I almost never see anyone else; if I do it's easy to keep a good 20 feet away.
When I get home, I work on some little home-improvement project. I am trying to do only those things for which I already have the materials, to avoid a trip out into the world - I take lockdown pretty seriously! So, I paint baseboards, I hung a towel loop, I spackle some damaged drywall.
I also clean a lot.
After lunch I work on Duolingo - I have been trying to learn Spanish for years, and I am finally making some progress! - or I read a book. I call my mother every day, and sometimes other friends, but all in all I am astonished how easily I have adapted to not seeing with anyone but Doug. I've always been an introvert, so maybe I shouldn't be surprised...I'm actually a little worried that, like bras and what I now call "hard pants," it will be difficult to return to wearing my public face every day.