Spring came, whether we were there to notice it or not.
Another look at the tiny slice of world I can see from my windows. Although I'm mostly managing well enough staying home -- this is when being an introvert who's happiest with a book really pays off -- it's not always painless. Oddly enough, sunny days are easier to handle; maybe it's because I can throw the windows open and watch the sky and listen to the birds singing, and though I'd love to be outside I'm less conscious of being locked in. Monday it poured rain all day and by late afternoon I was climbing the walls.
Part of the problem was that I didn't feel like eating the chicken and vegetables I had planned for dinner and I didn't really have any alternative. Food has turned into another form of entertainment under lockdown -- I'm planning what I'm going to have for lunch while I'm eating breakfast, and I often have dinner before six o'clock just because it's something to do. I have to be careful not to buy too many treats because I don't want to test my willpower, but the pleasure of eating something delicious, like a ripe juicy orange sliced into my morning yogurt, is real consolation when I can't do so many other things I enjoy. (And of course thinking so much about food keeps me from dwelling on the fact that I'm sitting in the epicenter of a global pandemic.)
But I find myself craving things I don't usually eat -- Raisin Bran cereal, potato chips, vanilla ice cream -- that of course I don't have on hand and can't easily get. And I get annoyed because something healthy that I like -- chicken and vegetables, say -- and do have available isn't entertaining enough for my bored palate.
I ended up going out to the supermarket Monday though I wasn't planning to shop yet. I was exhausted by the time I'd carried the bags upstairs, cleaned and disinfected everything, and taken a shower, but at least I had vanilla ice cream. Which I ate in bed, in my pajamas, for dinner.