Thoughts on Quarantine, PART 2

Will you keep reading if I promise there are no poop and puke stories in this post? 

Okay, let's move on to the second installment of our 3-part series on the Great Quarantine of 2020.

THINGS TO DO DURING YOUR FORCED CONFINEMENT EXTRA FREE TIME. 

(Subtitle: Things I tried to do, at which I failed miserably )

1. Spring Cleaning

It is spring.

Spring is traditionally the time for spring cleaning, hence the name spring cleaning.

And hey, we're stuck at home, so it's a great time to get some things done!

You probably know where I'm going with this. I have a house full of able-bodied kids who are not going out to work or school, and generally not sneaking out to see their boyfriends or to get a whiff of fresh air, generally found outside at parks and such, but occasionally also found at Meijer (especially when the air outside is tainted with snow. In April!)

What a great time to do some spring cleaning. My thinking, long before Easter, which is my usual deadline for spring cleaning - was "Let's get this house cleaned and decluttered and let's purge everything we don't need!"

There were several flaws with this plan.

The first problem I encountered was that that teenagers and young adults like to sleep. A lot. At unpredictable times of day. Especially when they have nothing else to do. And also when they have school work to do. I mean, they get their school work done, too, but their waking schedule is from like 1 PM to 3 AM. So we don't touch base as often as I'd like. And of course, when I announce that there are chores to be done, there is a lot of pretending to be sleeping going on.

Another problem I faced was that, even if everyone in my house was ready, willing and able to clean (which, in and of itself would probably signal some very significant change in the laws of the universe or maybe the impending apocalypse), we didn't have the proper tools at our disposal because there is no Lysol anywhere, in a liquid, solid or gaseous state. No bleach, No Clorox wipes. No rubbing alcohol. No hydrogen peroxide.

Not even on Amazon! I don't know about you, but when Amazon starts running out of things, that's when I start to panic. If Amazon runs out of it's Amazonian stash of Instant Pots, the softest sheets in the world, Poo-pourri bathroom spray, or every book known to man, the world will stop turning. Yes, I know that it used to function just fine without Amazon, but now that Amazon is here, it has become a permanent and very-much needed fixture in our lives, especially because I have free Prime shipping!  

Let me clarify that, although there hasn't been rubbing alcohol on the shelves in several weeks, there's been plenty of other kinds of alcohol, and no matter how much you try to convince me that vodka can kill novel coronavirus (it can't!), I wouldn't waste such a necessity at a time like this. And I don't really want our house smelling like a distillery. Besides, our drink of choice in this house is a well-crafted gin and tonic.

Here are a few other obstacles I ran into, while attempting to simply clean my house: You know all that garbage you tend to find when you're deep cleaning? It feels so good to just toss out bag after bag of junk that you can't repair, don't want to repair, or never wanted in the first place. Well, our garbage company told us to limit our trash to what can fit in the dumpster. Can you imagine? How rude! I guess they don't want their employees handling our possibly infected trash. I mean, before they were just fine handling trash with poopy diapers, rotten food, and many other things that surely contained dangerous levels of e.coli, salmonella, botulinum toxin and who knows what else? But add coronavirus to the mix and now they're all "we ain't touchin' that $hit". Okay, so we have to throw away the stinky, smelly garbage like normal and keep it to one dumpster full, and stuff all the rest of the paper trash, broken radios, toys from pre-Y2K, and keep them in a nice dry spot in the basement until we can safely dispose of them.

Oh, and all those returnable pop bottles that we bring to the store once every three to six months, which earns us enough money to buy a few rounds of pizza? We absolutely cannot return those right now. (Note: Michigan is one of those states where you pay a 10¢ deposit on each pop and beer can or bottle and you get the money back when you return them. It makes you feel like you're getting free money, but you're not.) We're talking infection central when you think about how many mouths have touched those things, so I get it. But it really sucks because we can't even flatten the bottles and cans in order to save space while we save them for later because then the automatic code readers can't read them. So, we have several bags of rinsed, ready, and clanging returnables nesting right along with the other trash in our basement.

And what about all that stuff that we want to purge so you we get out our spring and summer clothes? No can do. Ain't no way they're taking our "corona-shoes" or "virus-socks" until probably around the year 2025. 

What will it be next? Don’t open your windows because other people don’t want your contagious air. Don't close your windows because you don't want to trap the virus inside. Don’t dust because you’ll be inhaling the dead skin cells of your family members past and present. (This is always true, I just thought I'd point out how gross it is.)

2. Creating new habits. Okay, most kinds of cleaning are off the table, except the occasional spritz of Lysol spray, which is being carefully rationed. How about cleaning out my pantry and deciding that this is it: This is when I will finally get rid of the junk food and pack the fridge and cupboards with good, clean, healthy foods, only to arrive at the grocery store to find out that the pickings are slim: Hawaiian pizza, Hot Tamales flavor Peeps, vegan cheese (and TBH, every other vegan food ever invented because most people won't eat that crap, even with their dying breath), Kraft cauliflower pasta (what were they smoking when they invented that?), and a single 1.75 quart container of Scooperman ice cream.

Okay, so I'll have to wait on the total revamp of our fridge, pantry, eating habits, and health in general.

Great.

3. Catching up on tasks I've been meaning to do. I figured I could sit down and write thank you notes, a job that usually piles up for 11 months until I finally tackle it and send cards to people who forgot what they did for me and why. Anyway, I started this task, but then I realized that some people are wary of the mail right now. So I felt compelled to leave a small note on each envelope assuring people that yes, I did wash my hands before writing this and not I did not breathe directly on the cards, even though I have absolutely no symptoms of COVID-19. You just can never be too careful. And I most certainly did not lick the envelope to close it; well, not after I remembered anyway.

4. Yard work. Forget yard work because the Christmas decorations are still up and they look rather lovely with the thick blanket of snow that Mother Nature forgot to dump in January.

5. Learn a new hobby. Right. If you're an overachiever who decides to learn Swahili during this forced vacation from reality, freaking whoop-de-doo for you! I doubt you'll ever use it. Or if you decide to get your yoga instructor's license online, I'm happy for you and your delusional waste of money. Just don't post about it because your overachieving, self-righteous, smug little toned butt is making everyone else feel like crap about merely surviving.

Some of us are happy to just subsist on whatever food we can find, practicing the occasional necessary hygiene, and keeping a fresh gin and tonic in our hands.