Going back to work is highly inconvenient, and is messing with the nice lockdown routine I had going. The early mornings play havoc with my yoga and meditation. I can already feel my chakras falling out of balance. Duolingo knocked me down a league for my less than diligent attendance this week. I have 305 non-urgent email messages in my inbox that I haven’t attended to since Monday.
Today was another intense family day of landscaping, painting, and deep, deep cleaning. We are all too tired to do much after we come home. B falls into the pool, clothes and all, to demonstrate the extent of his over-heating and exhaustion. The dog leaves us after 8 hours, and walks home alone, as if to say, that’s my working day over, see you losers later.
When we closed down two restaurants and a coffee shop 78 days ago, after the government announced a forced full lockdown, it took just a few hours to put everything away and shut up shop. It has taken us a few weeks to get it back open, there is so much to do to enter the new normal and address varying expectations of guests and staff. Tomorrow the team will come in and set up their respective departments., adhering to reams of new covid-regulations. It is going to be weird to be allowed back into the work fold, and see everyone again, wearing facemarks and bumping elbows, just like old times, but not really.
As I watch sunset, B and his mate are playing pingpong outside, the perfect social distancing game when friends come round. A is sat next to me, bouncing her Fatcat on her lap like a baby. ”I have Cat Tourette Syndrome” she decides, “I can’t help blurting out involuntary statements about how cute my cat is.” There is some truth to this, I think.
I’m too tired to think, so I’m heading to bed. We’ll be up early again tomorrow. Maybe at the weekend, I can start up my nice lockdown routine again. But this time, it’s voluntary.
