I wanted to write a post that would be silly and make you giggle and maybe forget about the whole COVID-19 situation for a couple of minutes. That’s sort of my niche, and writing about serious stuff doesn’t always come naturally to me, but I have been thinking for a while about what I could write about and it just feels like the elephant in the room.

I’m doing the isolation thing as best I can, but it’s tough when I still go to my job every day. Once you have one thing you leave your home for, it’s hard to draw that line. Even still, I’ve been running the work-home, work-home, work-home circuit. I’m doing alright with it, but OF COURSE I am getting stir crazy in my apartment. While I love my little home, with its pink accents and comfy bed and décor that just SCREAMS “I was a French major” (hello, French flag above my couch), it’s definitely hard for me to keep my marbles about.

So, I didn’t want to compile a big list of boredom busters for you all, but I thought, what the hell. This is MY blog, you’re reading it (presumably, if I haven’t lost you at this point) because you care about what I have to say, and so I want to share with you just a handful of the things I’ve been doing to try to keep a positive head and make it through this.

Write On

You’re probably thinking, HA, WHAT A JOKE, because I haven’t posted on my blog one time since this COVID-19 business began. You are right to think that, but let me try to explain something to you. When I sit down to write something, I feel lots and lots (and lots) of pressure to create. This is probably directly related to my job (which I absolutely LOVE, don’t get me wrong, but the whole purpose of being a journalist is to create so your work can be published) and I get a lot of holdover when I try to write on my own.

I have a little journal. Just a small thing, with a black cover and spiral binding. It’s my brain dump. When I hear a word or a phrase that I like, I write it down. When a line comes to me that I feel like I could work into a poem, I write it down. When I just need to vent, I write it down. It’s not a “dear diary” situation, but it is a place where I can siphon off some of the thoughts I have so that I don’t feel overwhelmed. And when I’m writing in that notebook, I don’t feel this pressure to put my words into a cohesive piece. It’s just a jumble of thoughts, lines, maybe a short fiction-y thing here and there, but I’ve worked really hard to not put any pressure on it, and it’s become a self-isolation mainstay for me.

“Call me”

Cue the “we get it Emma, you also majored in Communications.” You already know I call my mom all the time. I’ve been trying to take this time to also talk to some other people who mean a lot to me. Yesterday I talked for over an hour with one of my brothers, and last weekend I FaceTimed for maybe 3 hours with my cousin Grace, who is in Brooklyn right now braving the coronavirus storm. It was good to catch up and we even shared a glass of wine. It was so chic of us. So grown up.

Generally, I find it overwhelming to constantly be checking in on all of my friends and family. Does that make me a shitty person? Maybe. It’s just that I feel like everyone knows that if they need something, I will always be there. I am trying to take this time that I have alone here in my apartment to get over that particular hurdle and talk to more people so I don’t go crazy talking to myself. I can only handle so much of my own monologue, you know.

The music in me

Living alone, I generally rely heavily on music to fill the dead space anyway, but lately I’ve been pushing it to the max. I’ve become weirdly fond of John Mayer’s music, which is interesting because not too long ago I think I called his music “boring and run-of-the-mill” and “made for overpriced coffee shops.” Whoops. John Mayer: if you’re reading this, I do apologize.

I’ve also been listening to (get ready for this one, folks) more country music, which goes a little against my brand, but I feel like this is the perfect time to try new stuff out. I’ve enjoyed it so far, though I do still have an issue with musical clichés and country music’s obsession with blue jeans and bare feet and neon bar lights BUT I AM LEARNING TO LIVE WITH IT.

Give me a FREAKING break

If you can’t tell, I’m usually very hard on myself. I constantly make myself feel bad if I’m not always trying to “better myself.” It’s a guilt thing. I’m learning to be more okay with just taking a break and focusing on unimportant things.

Newsflash: the world won’t end if I skip a workout. I don’t HAVE to always be cleaning to feel like I’m productive. I don’t need to keep organizing my closet or going through my desk drawers or cleaning out my backpack. It’s okay if I want to sit down on my couch and do some online window shopping (okay, okay, lately it’s been more shopping-shopping and less window shopping, but that’s only because summer is coming up and I didn’t have any sandals or appropriate shorts) or watch some Netflix. Or a lot of Netflix. Maybe I want to do a facemask. Maybe I want to braid my leg hair. Maybe I want to stand at the mirror, put my hair into a ponytail and see how many scrunchies I can fit on it. I AM ALLOWED TO DO THAT. Quarantine rules; anything goes.

It’s not easy for anyone, but it’s something we have to do right now. I’m taking it day by day, and who knows? Maybe we will all come out of this with a little bit of a different perspective. I feel like that’s where I’M headed, anyway.

Your Stir-Crazy (and also Just Plain Crazy-Crazy) Servant,

Em