Yesterday my employer (in an abundance of caution) closed our office and all but essential employees are working remotely until the end of the month – I am far from “essential”. By sheer coincidence I have been working from home since Tuesday, that’s four days and I’m already sick of myself.
I don’t want to get in to the virus and debate over whether or not we are responding correctly, I want to talk about how I tried to buy tampons at target last night and how that aisle was virtually empty. I want to discuss whether the 11 bottles of wine I have is enough to get me through without murdering my family (whom I love very much and don’t really want to kill unless I HAVE to).
Very much like my “updates from the couchside” I’m going to be writing for the next two weeks about how life is “inside the bunker”. Today my husband is home, working in the office – I can hear him on a conference call and I already want to bash his face in for destroying my peace and quiet. Today is day one.