In a Lockdown, You Make Adjustments — Conflict and Scotch
Anyone who knows me, knows I do not like to work from home. My old boss used to joke “when we all lose our jobs, Al will be around to lock the door and turn off the lights”. Now the world has forced me to work at home, and it’s not a pretty picture.
I was not set up for this long-term departure from the norm; needed to improvise. The Ethan Allan desk I had as a boy was hauled out of the basement and put in the corner of the living room. Now I sit on this triangle shaped desk, like Bob Cratchit asking for another lump of coal, staring at the wall like the kid at the end of The Blair Witch Project.
As the weeks ( now months) go on, I have gotten used to it, in fact, my commute from my bedroom to the living room as been the best of my career. Amazingly, though, I sign in for work later now than when I went into the office.
Even though I don’t like it, this stay-at-home order is nothing new to me. Liquor stores and food pick-ups has been my routine. I’m not going to pull a muscle because I’ve been training for this lockdown for years.
There are many other changes to deal with now. Going to the grocery has become its own adventure. We walk around with masks on and stay six feet apart. For those of us who are single, finding a date may not be our priority, but it is always there, just out of reach. Now, with everyone’s face covered, if you did manage to meet someone, your first date would be more like a gender reveal party.
“Congratulations! It’s a boy.”
When this started back in March, I had fifteen rolls of toilet — over two months late, I still have twelve. It’s like the loaves and fishes; what was I doing before, wrapping my hand like Christmas presents each time?
With the long lines for food, we need to be resourceful. For me, I go to my ex-wife Arlene’s house and drop off a bottle of white wine. In return, she gives me enough food for a couple nights worth of dinner. It’s a delicate balance, like the Plover bird that cleans the mouth of a crocodile by picking food from between its teeth.
In this scenario, Arlene is the crocodile.
For the first time, I had an online doctor’s appointment. It didn’t really accomplish much, but I needed my prescriptions refilled. It went well, although, I felt strange when he asked me to turn my head and cough (but, you know, he’s a doctor).
Get together with friends from Old Bridge, the town I grew up in, a few times a year. Since that is now impossible, we decided to have a ZOOM meeting (before this, never heard of ZOOM, now I wish I owned stock).
Unfortunately, could not clear everyone’s calendar to find a common time (where was anyone going?). The good news it was cancelled before I took a shower. As we know, the rule during this quarantine is you can only shower once a week.
It’s a house rule, but a rule none the less.
Good news is, when this is over, we will have the answer to one question.
At some point, in the future, a generation or two down the road, our grand kids will ask their parents, “Why do grandma and grandpa get so mad when we waste toilet paper?”
When that time comes, we’ll know the answer.
Originally published at https://www.conflictandscotch.com on June 4, 2020.
