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It’s Very Hard to Leave My Apartment
And COVID movie fatigue has set in.
In the morning when I reach the kitchen I realize I’m out of tortillas and low on bacon. I consider heading to the store, then decide I can make breakfast out of eggs and rice. The five-minute walk to the neighborhood grocery store that has almost everything I ever need can wait.
By evening I realize I’m going to need more toilet paper soon. That’s harder to find substitutes for and I briefly imagine walking the five blocks to get it. I’m talking about five residential blocks: the short ones, not the long downtown Chicago ones. But it’s dark now and I’m in for the night. In from where? I haven’t gone anywhere all day. But still “in for the night” carries a lot of weight with me. I decide I have TP to get me at least until the end of the day tomorrow and probably through the next day, too.
The next day I have work. That gets me out of the apartment, but only across the street. I’m a remote administrative assistant who supports woman-owned small businesses and solo practitioners. I mostly work from home, but I support one client in her office 15 hours a week. Since she’s now working from home and lives directly across the street from me, hers is the one place I see regularly besides my own four rooms.
