Well, shit... The bottom basically fell out of the world this past week and there's no way this isn't going to be about the coronavirus (and I apologize to my mother-in-law for cussing).
Saint Anne the Wife has the boys out somewhere in Prospect Park this morning where they can run and yell their heads off before they'll need to head back in for lunch and Flynn's nap. The park is only a couple blocks from our Park Slope apartment and we've been spending quite a bit of time out there deep in the trees and trails.
I meanwhile am back at the apartment after fighting through another grocery store run here in Brooklyn. Never in my life have I had to hunt down basic food staples like flour, olive oil, beans, and rice. I'd have never thought my new sourdough hobby would've actually been useful considering how hard it is to find bread around here. Thursday's Target run wasn't me out to hoard toilet paper and Clorox wipes like some of the heroes there, but I did just nearly loose my mind waiting in line in front of a family with young kids yelling, crawling on the floor, and rubbing their hands on everything they could touch while the mom just stood there mocking me after I asked her to stop bumping me with her stroller.
It dawned on me last night while we were getting the boys ready for bed that this'll more than likely be a time they'll look back on in the way my generation remembers something like 9/11. Anne and I haven't dealt with a situation like this before and we're trying as parents and simply as people to guide them through it. Oh, and then there's Anne and I trying to convince my parents back in Oklahoma City who are both in their 70's that they probably shouldn't be going to church this past weekend simply due the amount of people they'd be around.
Good grief it's a strange time to be around. There's an infographic over at the Visual Capitalist that was incredibly helpful in visualizing the history of pandemics.
As of last night the NYC Public Schools are closed along with restaurants and bars. Literally any gathering over 50 people is banned. Our church cancelled Sunday services so after we got the boys in bed Anne and I watched Life.Church's Craig Groeschel absolutely kill it with a sermon devoted to how the Church should respond to coronavirus.
We've got quite a few friends who've left New York for the foreseeable future while this whole thing blows over. Some have left for their second homes outside the city and others have gone back to their parents. I know Anne and I have talked about leaving but for now we're staying put; I can't see how us leaving is going to help the situation.
As a teacher Anne is in a unique position to make sure Elliot and Flynn are on track with their education. For me – and most of my buddies – it's scary AF to be a freelancer at the moment. Actual paid work has absolutely dried up for me short of a project that never seems to end, but thankfully I've still got invoices out and stock footage revenue that will continue to carry us for a bit, but not indefinitely. This coming Friday is my normal biweekly payday and I've already seen one of my March 16th corporate tax payments automatically withdrawn from my business account.
It's absolutely understandable if you're not handling this time well. I'm more nervous about the economic impact on our family vs. actually getting sick. We're probably ruining the "Happy Birthday" song for our kids considering we sing it twice while washing our hands that are now considerably dry and nearly bleeding. I've got a bottle of 91% rubbing alcohol on my desk and we're making our way through Clorox wipes on all our 'high-touch' surfaces around the apartment. No clue what your thing is to help you keep your calm, but I'm leaning hard into a few Bible passages (here, here, and here) as well as searching out informed sources to help us through whatever global thriller/horror movie we seem to be in at the moment – bonus points if they make me laugh.