My husband is a man who likes his routines — Thursday evening we order pizza from the local pizza shop (the same pizza every week, by now they must have the darn thing in the oven before we call…), Friday we used to walk up to the local Irish pub for beers and burgers, Saturday he grills at home and Sunday he makes his own dough for grilled pizza on our backyard smoker. You get the idea. So this staying-at-home thing is really hard for him — sure he still makes his almost daily visits to Home Depot and the grocery store, but what he’s really missing is taking a spin class at the gym, and watching a live sporting event on the big TVs while having a crappy beer at our local 99 (he is obsessed with their popcorn!).
Today is Thursday, so we will order our same large pizza from the local pizza place and enjoy the luxury of good food being delivered right to our door. After all these years of Thursdays, the guy who delivers the pizza is practically family!
Hopefully my husband will be happy doing something “normal” for us and try not to stress about all the time he’ll be spending in the house again tomorrow. Until he decides to run to the grocery store again. Or to Home Depot, or to get a coffee from Dunks. You get the picture.
A friend of mine dropped off some live yeast for us this evening (there is a yeast shortage here, who knew??). The three of us stood in our driveway, more than 6 feet between us. It was cold this evening and her husband was making them dinner at home, so she didn’t say long. I haven’t seen her since the first week of March — we went to an author event at a local bookstore, back when we weren’t social distancing. She was only here a few minutes, but my husband and I smiled as we walked back into our house, even though this was totally out of our normal routine.
Notes from a Self Quarantine 