Is it really a quarantine if you normally don't leave the house?

My family has just spent another gorgeous Sunday laying around the house doing nothing.  To be fair to us, we were all recovering from our 12-year-old daughter's birthday sleepover (can you die from giggling? No. Can you want to die from it, absolutely, yes). Also, I am once again bedridden from running a long distance for inexplicable reasons that do not involve mountain lions or serial killers.  I had to, I'm "training." Sure, Jan, I can't wait to see your star turn at the 2050 Senior Olympics.

Still, you take both those things out, and the chances that we did something outside our home are well  south of  Bernie Sanders' odds in Florida.  We don't go to stores anymore, thank you Amazon.  We have few activities. We have some friends, but they usually just come over here or else we just interact on Facebook like normal people.  And we rarely go and do anything. That would require a) everyone agreeing on what we are doing b) someone figuring out parking (if you live in a city, you know) c) finding everyone's shoes.

We do go to work/school and church, because we need money and God. Also, there is food at those places (yes, including church! I know) and if we eat really well, we may not have to eat anything else but cereal the rest of the day.


So, I'm wondering--if coronavirus confines us to our house, will we know the difference? If a pandemic tree falls in the civilized world of woods but no one has left their house to see it, did it really fall? If a family stays in their home because they have to and not just because they can't summon the motivation to leave, does it feel more oppressive?

OMG, get your hands off your face, Jeff Goldblum! Geez!

I'm thinking not. In fact, the more I consider this supposedly nightmarish impact of coronavirus, the more I'm cool with it. Because usually when I stay home and wallow around in my PJs all day and let my kids play 16 hours of video games, I feel bad about it. But if the government is telling me that is what I have to do, if we are in fact living in some kind of global apocalyptic hellscape, then where's the guilt. It's like eating nothing but ice cream after you've had your tonsils out.  Or binge watching What Not to Wear for the eighteenth time because the fashion world is trying to return us to the early 90's and dammit you will not be gaslit into condoning high-waisted, tapered, pleated pants.  This is an emergency.


Bottom line is, while I do have real, legitimate fears for the elderly folks in my life, I've thought through the many ramifications of the coronavirus pandemic for myself and immediate family, and I've made my peace. I figure we'll all get mildly ill, and that won't be fun. But we will also get a welcome, extended break from over-achiever guilt, which frankly is a pandemic all its own.


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