I am not going to belabor the COVID-19 outbreak, nor am I going to minimize it.
My family is struggling. Frankly, eight days cooped up together is a lot. My husband has a cold. Every time he coughs, we jump. But yes, just a cold, thankfully.
I turn on the news only to turn it off again. I am doing what I can with social distancing. There is little more I can do right now.
We have no idea when or even if the kids will go back to school this year.
Grocery shopping is a nightmare.
The fear over if we will have a job in a few weeks also looms large. We live America where there really is no social safety net. We are fortunate that we have some savings to see us through, but the threat of unemployment is very real.
Through all of this, I have been…writing. Yeah. I know.
I’ve basically tuned it to what I need to, then I have buried my head in the sand with my imaginary characters.
I finished one book during this time and am 30k words into a second. Yeah, burying my head.
I don’t know what else to do.
I look forward to a return to some normalcy. To at least knowing what we face rather than just being afraid all the time.
Until then, I pick up my sword and shield, and face the demons of the unknown in the dark.