Quarantine days last much longer than non-quarantine days. In fact, the current quarantine “day” is going on 168 hours.

This novel coronavirus isn’t novel anymore. I’ve completely lost track of the day (though I know it doesn’t matter), I’m working harder & longer hours than I have ever worked, my house is a mess, I’m eating everything and working nothing off. When the kids are not on their phones or Xbox, they are fighting. My husband isn’t having much fun working from the luxury of the dining room table.

Those fabulous plans to make the most of this blessed time together have been torn asunder by said fabulous plans and those with whom I am blessed with togetherness. But mostly by me.

When I started teaching, I built out an office in the basement. It’s not a real room—it’s a 12’ x 16’ bump out in the front of our octagon bungalow bordered by a wall of Ikea kallax shelves filled with books, knick-knacks, files, and picture frames to approximate privacy. It has two doorways, but no doors. I have a desk and a faux fireplace with a nice assortment of equally faux candles for ambiance. All the walls (7 of them not counting the shelves—octagon bungalow) are covered with posters and paintings and message boards and photographs. There’s a printer and a space heater and even a clapper (thanks to my mother-in-law) so I can turn my lights on and off with simple applause. It is my favorite room in the house. In the corona, it is where I hide.

When no one else is home, and the world isn’t sick, I am productive here. It takes me just a few hours a week to keep up with my classes, do a bit of grading, and perhaps even write. Perhaps. Now, I spend every day from 7am to at least 3pm in my office—and often go back after dinner—and get ahead of nothing. I’ve started squirreling away snacks and matches and shiny bits of paper. I’ve rearranged all the pictures on the walls at least three times and decorated multiple surfaces with a growing collection of washi tape and contact paper. I’m not sure if I am relieving anxiety or looking for comfort or trying to fortress myself against everything out there. But I do know, I’m going to be here for a while.