“The smile was still on my lips when we kissed” was going to be the first line of the short story I set out to write on day seven (update: the story was not finished). I also have not kept the diet from day five, or the fitness plan form day six, or the sobriety challenge from day eight. I was never one who could operate without boundaries.

It is not so much the inability to meet in person that is draining my motivation for class work, it is that fact that I am attempting this work from my bedroom, where a soft bed calls for a nap, or at the kitchen table where the ice-cream is within eyesight. Some may call me weak-willed or lacking in self-discipline, I would respond by asking who could win an argument with themselves over a nap? 

Yet, there have been days of productivity; I have applied to an “adult job” hoping that they will still have the lights on when I graduate, I have cleaned more than I thought I would ever clean, and I have attempted to keep my head above water in my classes.

This is where the narrator comes in and tells my audience that I have indeed not kept my head above water and that it is so far below water that the safety divers are concerned.

This semester was difficult, and a pandemic where my roommate has poetically exposed himself and the house causing us to stay away from any and all human interaction… well it has not helped. At the onset of the quarantine, I was hopeful that the mental health strain would not be as drastic as some people were projecting; I have found it to be worse.

I try to keep it all in prospective, knowing that it is far worse for others, and this helps, as does FaceTime with friends. It has been hard adjusting to this new normal, when going outside could be a death sentence to the lovely old couple next door; yet if there is to be an end to this madness, we all must make sacrifices. Mine will include online classes, isolation, and more naps than are advisable. 

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