Life's never been as isolated as now. We're almost not seeing any people, only a few we walk with in the park. Afraid that February and March will be the darkest part of this crisis. Finding solace and escape in books, in what we watch, in video games, and most of all in each other. I cannot imagine how life must be for the lonely out there. We also had a bit of a medical scare recently, and my work prospects suddenly changed last week. We'll be fine, but both put me off balance - I feel like my buffers are at critically low levels. I'm debating whether I should take my concerns about how to move forward professionaly the coming months to my colleagues, or get someone outside of it to guide me.
I married a woman that owns a house. Otherwise I would never have been able to buy a home where I live. And it has been a sanctuary for 2020. I can sit in my fenced back yard, under my 100-foot tall Douglas Fir tree (named, "Doug", of course) and work in my shop, underneath Doug's shading branches. I know many people who live in apartments. I know many single people who live in apartments. I'm not sure I would be ok, if I did not have my house. And that privilege is very much front-of-mind for me, every single day.