1. Adopting a dog six months ago was one of my cleverest acts.
I admit there were times I wondered if I had been foolish facing Chicago's winter with an energetic pup pulling me along. But I soon realized that Doris' presence lightened my mood; made me feel needed, and provided companionship. Now, with our shelter-in-place directives, I'm congratulating myself for this addition to my life. Along with our four walks a day that hustle us outside, I'm blessed with a warm body attached to my leg at bedtime.
2. I prefer Zoom meetings to those that require me leaving home.
For someone others might consider gregarious, I am at heart a hermit. So this isolating in place requirement boosted, rather than drained, my spirit. Zoom allows frequent love fests with my far-flung children and grandchildren and nearby dear friends. For causes I support, no more carping about a meeting that requires a wardrobe, Lyft ride, and disruption to my routine. Now, I can host or join a gathering that demands only the top half of my body, allows me to occasionally slip away unnoticed, and unmute my mic only when I have something of value to say.
3. I need accountability and deadlines.
Because I've been riled over politics, I had been spending a majority of my time posting political and pandemic articles to my Facebook friends. Sadly, my stack of eBooks fell victim to this aggressive determination. Then, I was asked to participate in a conversation about a book on the Holocaust, and to write a blurb for another written by an artist friend. I had two weeks to complete more than 1,200 pages. The assignment drove me to set aside my mad obsession and devote a few hours a day to a new mission. Not only did I meet my target, but I also decided to charge myself to continue. I organized a Zoom group for a book on racial justice that I had wanted to read. I set the date, invited others, and hosted the conversation. The experience was so successful that we now meet regularly to share insights on our latest choice.
4. I'm enjoying my slovenly appearance.
To keep up my image of a hip old lady, my grey hair sported a spiky look. Now, sans my usual four-week shearing, my crown resembles that of a windswept George Washington. And because the only place I've allowed myself to venture is to the dog park, I've eschewed makeup. An obligatory mask covers my mouth, so not even lipstick is required. Surprisingly, in the two months we've been housebound, I've come to appreciate this untidy image. Groomed by a beautiful mother, I was encouraged to never leave home without being picture perfect. Mom is long gone now, and perhaps would be appalled by my appearance. But then again, she's likely happy I'm staying safe.
5. I still hate to cook.
Many of my friends have been clamoring about how the extra time at home has spurred cooking. Never fond of the activity, I patriotically jumped in and found, alas, that the smoke, preparation, and cleanup did not heighten my love for that bit of domesticity. When newspaper articles highlighted the need to boost survival of restaurants by ordering out, I happily jumped aboard with my own version of waving the flag: fried chicken one day, pizza another, with leftovers to fill the week.
6. Housecleaning isn't so bad.
In the above confession, you learned that I spurn traditional housewifely tasks. Thus, I had assigned the cleaning of my dog hair-patterned apartment twice a month to another. Alas, since no one else has been allowed in, I'm still paying my housecleaner, but I have assumed her responsibilities. Because I'm a lover of gadgets and implements, I purchased an adorable Dyson cleaner and a dozen boxes of Swiffer wet pads. With these two teammates, I've managed to keep Doris' disposing coat, and other debris from turning our one bedroom into a disheveled domicile. Not only does this task help fill the long days, but also I added the workout to my iPhone's Activity list. Now, I no longer get scolded for missing my goal.