,
I’ve had enough. I’m
done. I’m so over this. I can’t do this anymore. I want to go back.
Week 13 in Quarantine was not starting out so well. You would think that by the 3rd month mark, I
would have adjusted and settled into my lockdown life, established a new
routine and taken it all in stream.
Instead, I’m climbing the walls and wearing out the rug as I pace up and
down the hall.
I’m claustrophobic, desperate to get out of this confining
space and break free.
But, there’s nowhere to go.
And speaking about walls, I even befriended that ever so
chatty Fly on the wall. He was forever
buzzing around, yet I would pay him scant attention and swat him away. I was hasty to judge in labelling him a
nuisance, let alone a pest. Bored, he’s
been cooped up indoors, giddy with glee to chitchat with me. Needless to say, we bonded over Chardonnay and
gossiped the days away. We caught up on
secrets, theories and all sorts of conspiracies. The preposterous tales of the liaisons and
intrigues of my neighbours were television dramas come to life. Turns out that the incessant banging and
clanging reverberating from upstairs, startling me awake night after night,
were not the menacing machinations of Hannibal but the wonky dance moves of a
disco obsessed granny belting out the soundtrack to “I Will Survive”.
Oy vey.
The dust bunnies were next in line to make my
acquaintance. They were a happy-go-lucky
bunch that drifted from place to place, gathering followers along the way. Far from shy, they popped up in every which
corner and enjoyed playing games. Their
current fav: Hide & Seek. Their
motto: Catch me if you can.
Mr. Clean and Mrs. Comet were an inseparable team, full of
glimmer and hope. Always looking on the
bright side, their mantra of sparkle and shine was an inspiration of sunnier
days ahead.
All of this tidy and toil was taking quite the toll. Bored with the monotony of spic and span, I
was desperate for a change of scene. I had ants in my pants and I was itching to go fishing. Anywhere! Should
I jet off to a snow-capped Alpine village or just lounge on a chaise
and sip champagne in Capri? Or perhaps camp
out by a lake closer to home and contemplate the wonder and the mystery of the secrets veiled in our galaxy?
Alas, the dream of the wild blue yonder was a taunt of a mirage dangling well
beyond my grasp. It’s also a tad
far. I don’t have a car. My passport’s expired and the border is
closed. After all, we’re in Day 89 of
lockdown. How dare I forget? A momentary lapse and a blip of a slip have cast me adrift, trapped in the grip of the quarantine clock. Sigh…
Nothing like trudging dejectedly back into the house, where
lo and behold, I came eyeball to eyeball with an unexpected visitor aka The
Mouse.
Eek!
Next post:
In one week or two! The w/o June
22nd or June 29th, either on Tuesday, Wednesday or thereabouts. Stay tuned.
Stay home, stay safe and catch up with your
reading!
A journey of a thousand miles begins with a
single step.
Bags packed! Next stop: Vacation! |
Packed for a year-long vay-cay anywhere!!!!! |
How I miss schlepping luggage!! |
0 Response to "Tick tock of the quarantine clock in Week 13 of Cabin Fever"
Post a Comment