5th April 2020
From where I stand, barefoot and arms resting against the balcony railing, it’s hard to tell there’s a pandemic ravishing the world. We’ve traded the mornings once spent tuning in to news stations and reading through articles, for mornings listening to a bossa nova playlist and coffee on the balcony. The day seems like any other Sunday: neighbours walking their dogs, the mouth watering smell of baked goods creeping through the cracks in our door, children playing in the streets, while the sun peeks out with a kiss of spring. Everything seems fine.
It only hits me when Will walks in from work and I can’t greet him as I use to. It’s a “Hi Love” from the couch, desk, kitchen or wherever I’m at in the apartment, while he quickly runs to the kitchen sink to wash his hands, then wipe down all the surfaces he touched on his way in. All this before we can embrace.
I’m choosing not to leave the apartment for much. That includes heading to the lobby to use the communal laundry machines. Will refuses to head there too, so we’ve taken to washing our clothes by hand. My knuckles have been rubbed so tender, I’ve removed a thin layer of skin from them that’ll take a week or two to heal.
But since I haven’t really left the apartment for anything, it feels like nothing is going on and I’m on a much needed staycation. But, that’s me forgetting I can’t head to the grocery store or see my parents, since my history of breathing issues makes catching this virus a serious issue. For now, Will’s the only one making trips and waiting in the long lines at the store.
