WFH: Day 5 (But Feels Like Day 472)

I don’t even know where to start.

I just finished stress-eating half a big bag of Doritos.

The crisis communications part of my job is still not over and I’ve lost track of how long it’s been now. It feels like years. I think it’s only been 2 weeks.

Stuff that is strange and unexpected:

• Work is so busy right now that even though I am not seeing anyone from work, sometimes I still want to scream, “EVERYONE JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!” because all my devices are chiming and chirping and otherwise telling me that there’s more stuff that I’ve dropped the ball on and everything needs my attention right the hell now.
• Lunch breaks have always been my reset button. It’s harder to take real, resetting lunch breaks when you don’t change locations.
• Everything I do is now on my computer. I don’t get to rest my eyes when I go to a meeting because my meetings are on the computer, too. At night when I want to socialize with my friends or family, that is also on the computer. Ow, eyeballs.
• My cat is very active in the mornings. Today, he stole one of my stuffed animals from a shelf in my office and dragged it around the house, just to see what I would do. It has been, so far, the absolute highlight of my day.

Some stuff that has helped:

• Keeping things clean in my house– making the bed, running the dishwasher, folding the laundry, that sort of thing.
• Dinner two nights in a row with my gentleman friend. I know, social distancing, but you guys, I live ALONE. Cut me some slack on this one. We’re eating take-out on the couch, not bar hopping.
• Setting up an LED light to help with Zoom call lighting. This is very vain of me, but my despair spiral speeds up when I have to look at myself on a Zoom meeting and I’m a poorly-lit, fat, frumpy, multi-chinned moon-face with weird hair. Good lighting doesn’t fix all of that, but it helps a ton.

Anyway, I’m still here, still trying to smile and be cheerful, still doing my best to eat well and exercise and wash my hands and not slide into the depths of Anne-Shirley-level despair.

How are you doing, my loves?