I have come to the conclusion that I hermit well. Especially as I like cats. I may have trouble with the beard, though. I think most writers hermit well. That may be an overgeneralization. But I am the queen of that, so I will continue. Writers spend so much time living in the mind, traveling in the mind, creating in the mind, feeling in the mind, that the outside world becomes a secondary place for us. Anyway, that’s my story and I’m sticking to it. Don’t get me wrong, I love the world. Really, I do. But what I am is a person who can live very well in a teeny-tiny world of my own making. Essentially, this self-quarantining hasn’t made much of a difference to me. Other than the fact I am hysterical every waking moment about catching COVID 19 and tend to decontaminate anything that doesn’t move, nothing has changed much for me.
I get up in the morning and stagger to my computer. Hubby makes me a cup of coffee. The heart starts beating again. I begin putting words into the computer while looking at a screen. And I continue doing that until my back screams out for mercy. Or until Ellie wakes up and decides it’s time for her breakfast. You can set your clock by a cat wanting her breakfast.
Hubby is very good at making his own breakfast. This morning he made some for me, as well. Scrambled eggs and turkey bacon on toast. He’s a keeper.
So then I go back to the computer for more writing. Lunch rolls around. I make something easy. Often I feed my man, too, but only if it’s easy. Then once more to the computer. I continue to write. I answer a bajillion emails. I interact with all my pals on FaceBook. I talk on the phone with my heart-sister. Or the insurance man. Or order another pair of Birkenstocks online. Then the workday is done.
Hubby and I have a cocktail most nights. I make dinner every night these days. I shan’t complain about it, because I like to cook. How else do you get to be my size if you don’t? Then I play with Ellie. I play with hubby. I watch yet another mystery on TV. I read yet another mystery on my Kindle. Or from a real, page-turning book. Time for bed and sleep until another day rolls around.
God, I am such a bore. But tremendously, tremendously lucky. I never forget that.