My Extremely Privileged Pandemic Point of View

     I have a home. I have food. I have toilet paper. A new season of "The Medici" is out on Netflix. I'm good.

     If I'm washing my hands every 5 minutes for 20 seconds, then it only makes sense to shake my martini for 20 seconds.

     Dressing every day is a no brainer. I have 5 Gap t-shirts. All black, all long sleeve, all the flattering v-neck style. I rotate through them during the week, then start over. It will be an exciting day when I switch to my 5 Gap t-shirts with short sleeves.

     I miss my going-out-to-dinner/meeting-friends-for-cocktails/going-to-the-movies clothes. The ones that require the "gentle" cycle, or dry cleaning. The ones that actually require putting some thought into an "outfit." With shoes.

     I am a guilt tipper. I am normally a good tipper, but I am embarrassed by my privilege, and SO appreciate the delivery folks who bring me my groceries and take out dinners and Tito's vodka that I way over tip to assuage my guilt. Actually, I don't think one CAN over tip during a pandemic.

     I haven't even looked at my make up bag for 2 months. I can't decide if this is a good thing or if I'm just being lazy. A little eyeliner and concealer would probably cheer me up on bad days.

     I am lucky that I have one of my kids living with me. I miss the other two like crazy. One is across the ocean and another is just a few miles away. The distance doesn't matter. Zoom doesn't really cut it.

     However, the cat videos have to stop. I am not a cat person, my husband is very allergic, yet still the videos continue from these same 2 kids that I miss so much. I don't need to see another cat in a blanket or a cat batting a bottle cap around on the floor or a cat stretching on a windowsill.

     Some days, the anxiety of living with someone who is considered high risk can be intense. Our history of rushing to the ER over the past few years adds to this anxiety. Some days, meditation and deep breathing helps. Some days, long walks (wearing a mask) help. Some days, nothing helps.

     I am surprised that my screaming gray roots are not bothering me. Instead, I am focusing on all the money I am saving while staying away from the salon. Then guilt sets in again and I feel bad for my sweet hair salon.

     I have learned to limit my news watching/listening. My media access day revolves around MSNBC's Nicolle Wallace at 4PM. TV news goes off right after she signs off. It's helping to save my sanity.

     I am annoyed at social media postings of cooked meals and baked goods, then find myself proudly doing the same with my Almond Anise Biscotti and Vegetarian Chili. Next up: Gnocchi with Tomatoes and Olives.

     I have been writing more letters and sending more cards. Before this pandemic, I can't remember the last time I actually wrote a letter on stationery, instead of inan email or text. My handwriting is improving. Maybe this will continue.

     I am mightily impressed by and grateful for the creativity of all of the artists out there and been been lucky to attend virtual concerts, like Keb' Mo'; author readings through local bookstores and writing centers; and art shows shared on artists' websites.

     The health care workers and first responders. I can't even. No words. I remind myself of them when I start to complain about putting on a mask to walk down the street to the mailbox. Then I shut the fuck up.