March 19th, 2020: The morning after the premiere of LOCKDOWN LOS ANGELES began, I woke up SIDEWAYS due to anxiety, wine consumption, and sudden claustrophobia. Sure I'd been happily introverting for a few months by then, but the sudden declaration that my movements were being restricted left me feeling stuck. It's the same personality trait that led me and my bestie to get matching black panther tattoos decades ago - simply because my then husband HAD FORBIDDEN ME TO. Now I have a blurry, catlike etching somewhere halfway down my back. I SHOWED HIM.
So yeah. The quickest way to get me to do something, is to explicitly tell me I can't. So when the Governor declared that Angelenos should shelter in place due to this buzz kill of a virus, I IMMEDIATELY NEEDED TO GO TO THE GROCERY STORE. And get gas, a car wash, make a return at Marshall's, and swing by the museum for that Betye Saar exhibit.
I hit up my girl Jodo to help me unravel. Is it trueeeeee??? I whined, wondering if we could still go outside to buy weed.(update: we can) Didn't you see my story on INSTA? she queried.
I'm off ALL social media, duhhhh, I countered, which we both knew was a lie. I am on SM, but I don't post. I casually observe, and on required occasions, troll.
So for the next few weeks, I developed the following routine: Wake up, eat breakfast, take after breakfast nap, get back up, clean house, shower and dress, take an exercise walk, eat a snack, nap, watch Netflix, declutter a room, nap, Grubhub dinner, relax, go to bed, wake up, eat breakfast, repeat, add in additional activities; color, do a word find, look online at dogs available for adoption, scroll endlessly on phone, rearrange a room, paint a room, re-pot a plant, journal, read, stare outside to see what my neighbors were up to, dance, nap again, ponder my entire fucking existence, and then start again.
This is gonna get interesting....
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