My Covid-19 Story

When Covid-19 started to really be an issue in the United States, I barely noticed the stay-at-home order and isolating routines. I embraced the introversion and kept on creating things, painting stuff, and thinking quiet thoughts. It took a good few months for me to reach the point of feeling the imbalance on my introversion – extroversion scale. Now, however I’M DONE WITH THIS SHIT. Except that I’m not. We’re not. Still. And while I admit to and express my feelings of frustration I don’t let it flow over into childish behaviour.

When bars reopened in Minnesota I enjoyed the company of friends and acquaintances on a number of occasions. My theory was that there was no point in me being super cautious if my roommate was working amongst the masses every night. I tried to pay attention and be sensible, though. And then I slipped up. Late one night a friend thoughtlessly offered me some of their drink, and I thoughtlessly partook. Doh. Though it may have been something else that gave it to me, that I feel dumb about.

I tested positive for Covid-19 last Sunday. It had been a week since I started feeling under the weather. No big deal, just a very slight cough, and after a couple of days a fever. I didn’t go back to work with the elderly couple I PCA for and I got tested on the Friday. It surprised me that the test was positive and that this is what all the fuss is about.

So, I’m following the guidelines and hoping to avoid passing on this stupid illness. I’m quarantining for at least ten days from the beginning of the symptoms, and 3 days after having a fever. (Day before yesterday now.) I keep to myself in my room. Have a separate bathroom. Wear a mask around my housemates when I venture up to the kitchen, and wash my hands a bunch. So far the housemates have no symptoms and are self-isolating as much as possible. The plan is to get us all tested in a few days when I can expect to be over it all.

Besides feeling under the weather, there’s been the stress of theoretical social disapproval, boredom, and self-doubt (as always) to deal with. Since I work as an artist from home taking time to to rest had to be a conscious decision. I’m all too prone to go on creating or computing if I’m sitting, and trying to make it meaningful and purposeful in building my business at every available opportunity.

Naturally for a few days I lost my drive so completely that I ran the gamut of existential doubt and artistic demotivation. You know, where I say things to myself like:

  • nobody cares if you make art or not
  • that’s not a decent income, you’re just wasting your time
  • you could be doing more being a responsible member of society
  • or not, you actually have no purpose or skills. So…
  • there’s no reason to try, it’s just wasted effort
  • you look foolish doing this silly thing (being an artist)
  • there’s no magic in the world, only pain and boredom

Since these are toxic things I don’t want in my head, I thought I’d make something to remind me of the magic of living. Beautiful thoughts are hard to hold onto sometimes, but here are some that I can believe in this week, despite the grumpkin in my brain. (If I try hard.)

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