One hundred and forty seven days ago I went into isolation with the California lockdown. That's five months. The "need" to remain at home isolated from the pandemic was a "protection" assignment. Protecting someone else.
In five months I have gained about fifteen pounds, predominately through inactivity. Just recently I have begun a light exercise program in which I ensure that the dogs (plural) are walked each night. They are not my dogs.
The days are somewhat disjointed as there is not regimented rising time, but the meals are as scheduled three times a day - with a slight variance for the evening meal based on travel time for another occupant of the house. I'm not making two evening meals a day.
Before I came to the United States, I was an accomplished sailor on the racing circuit. I often wondered if I had it in me to sail single handed long distances. Though I never aspired to sole circumnavigate the globe, it was a question in my mind of could I transfer my race skills to cruising skills.
I'm no longer sure I could solo circumnavigate. I'm sure that the days would be vastly different but in my twelve square feet office, I have found myself...wandering about. There is always something to do, but not always something I want to do. And I found the reason for that.
It's been one hundred and forty seven days since I went into isolation. That's five months.
They're not my dogs. 5 Months. One hundred and forty seven days.
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