Well, today was incredibly strange. I was prepared to stay inside for the week, but I was forced to go the post office. There was a problem with renewing a post office box, so a mask-to-plexiglass** meeting was required. Fortunately, there was no one in the office when I went in and the whole transaction (and collecting two packages) was finished in less than fifteen minutes.
(Note to a friend: Thank you again for the N95 surgical masks. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have been able to leave the house!)
I was already getting stir-crazy this weekend, when I felt lousy and couldn’t focus on reading, let alone writing. Today, feeling a little better, I decided to take down the decorations except for the Nativity (aka nacimientos aka creche). It’s a pre-emptive strike against the blues I might feel on Christmas Eve. Except for a few years when my parents were in Florida or Texas, I have always gone home for Christmas Eve and Day.
My mother called an hour ago, said I sounded good, and suggested maybe I should come home for my quarantine. I said no; it’s better to wait it out. When I talked to my father, he told me, “You’re coming home before New Years.” My parents are the least demonstrative parents in my circle of friends, so it’s rather strange that they’re taking my absence this hard.
Then again, I could be a blubbering mess later this week. Time will tell!
**As opposed to face-to-face.