“Remoted” Day 360 (Thursday)

Several news articles ran today about “March 11, 2020 -- The day that changed everything” on the one year anniversary of the World Health Organization declaring COVID a global pandemic. One day earlier, the governor of Massachusetts had declared a state of emergency. What a year it has been since then.

I didn’t know it, but a few days earlier, Saturday the 7^th, was the last “normal” day in a very long time. It started with a regularly scheduled hair appointment in Worcester, and that evening, friends and I met for dinner at Christina’s Restaurant in Leominster. After dinner we met other friends at the Knights of Columbus where a band was playing. I haven’t seen several of those friends in real life since that night.

The in-person social
season evaporated.

The clues that something bad was blowing in had already begun appearing. While driving back to Lowell from the hair appointment, a message arrived about the cancellation of a work celebration scheduled for Monday the 9^th. On Sunday the 8^th, we didn’t know it yet, but we had what turned out to be our last dance class and rehearsal. Later that day, word was received that the Bellies for Hope fundraiser that we were rehearsing for was cancelled. 

One by one, events were crossed off the calendar. The 4 x 4 Art Sale at The Brush Art Gallery and Studios and the Steampunk themed gala at Fitchburg Art Museum, both scheduled for the 14^th, were postponed. Volunteer events and dance classes were cancelled. Ditto for drumming classes and dental appointments.

As the early spring in-person “social season” evaporated, any sadness was overshadowed by stress and worries about the rapidly advancing, mysterious coronavirus. And it was only the beginning. To say it’s been a strange, awful, illuminating, frustrating, stressful year of change for pretty much, well, everyone, is probably not news to anyone. Some of the change has been in the form of inner knowledge and growth, and the ability to cope with and adapt to changing and uncertain conditions. For some, more successfully than others.

Goodbye social life.

The year of change reminds me a bit of the Franz Kafka novella The Metamorphosis. In the story, Gregor Samsa’s life is suddenly changed when he wakes up one day as a giant bug. Trapped as a prisoner in his new form (in the case of the pandemic, one’s home), he experiences loneliness, isolation, and worry, yet comes to find some enjoyment in his plight. Then he starves himself and dies.

The part where life was suddenly different and there followed a range of various feelings holds true. There have certainly been feelings of loneliness and isolation and worry with intermittent moments of feeling content. Unlike Gregor Samsa, my home is not shared with neglectful family members who find me a burden now that I can’t work and support them. That is a blessing, and there has been no temptation to enact Samsa’s solution, which was to starve himself. Pandemic or not, I can’t check out – who would feed the dogs?