Thanks to the coronavirus, millions of Americans are now sheltering at home. If you are telecommuting or overrun with family, bless you. But a lot of folks are doing…well, nothing.
As someone with years of experience at doing nothing — I mean, at being a gifted freelance writer — I’d like to offer a few tips.
First, make a list of all the things you must get done — this morning; this week; this month; this year.
It is very important that you make this list as long as you can because you will be glad to see it again when your supply of toilet paper has run out!
I’m just kidding; I know most of you made that list on your phone. But seriously, you are not going to get any of it done. And it won’t even be your fault! In fact, if you’re very lucky, you will have your deadlines moved for you — the way President Trump has done for me with that pesky income tax filing date.
Now that you have made your list: Ignore It. Oh, sure, you want to clear out all your closets; do all the laundry; leave every room sparkling clean…preferably by the end of the week.
But you’ve got to realize that that kind of thinking doesn’t merely torpedo your spirits; it’s actually unpatriotic! Because we are supposed to stay in, off the streets, and your list needs to last.
Yes, I know that is hard for all you busy people, you folks who are used to getting it done but trust me — it’s better to wake up with a task still to do, than with empty meaningless weeks stretching out before you.
Of course, I don’t expect you to be able to ignore all of your lists, right away; that’s for the advanced class. For now, I suggest you settle for ignoring most of it. Just pick one small item on your list to accomplish.
Next — and this is very important — be sure to stop when you accomplish that original task! Do not say to yourself, “Well, one closet cleared out wasn’t so bad; why not finish the rest of them today?” Resist!
Why? Suppose, for the sake of argument that, somewhere between your third and fourth cup of coffee, you notice that there are an awful lot of dust kitties by the kitchen baseboard under the sink. And let’s say that you take an old paper towel and you swipe them up.
That’s fine. I’m just saying, stop there and take a victory lap. (Around the couch, maybe, or your desk chair). Whatever you do, do not succumb to the deadly scourge of “mission creep” — or else, like a friend of mine in better times, you’ll find yourself knocking out a pantry wall and redecorating, when all you wanted was to scrub a dried bit of ketchup off the wallpaper.
So know your limitations. Think small. And whenever the urge seizes you to go out and do something — shop; exercise; anything — try to take Mark Twain’s advice and lie down until the feeling passes.
Finally, I must warn you about another huge hazard to being at home.
RRRING!
Yes, the telephone. Right now, everyone in America knows that you’re “in!” At Casa Judy, we kept our landline, for the way it kept working during power outages. But it gets a ridiculous amount of ridiculous calls. And since I can’t work the caller ID very well, I never know what I’m in for.
Ring!
“Yes?”
“Hello. This is your IT department, from Microsoft, to tell you that your computer is infected.”
“That’s odd because I don’t have a Microsoft computer.”
They must have relayed that information to Apple because my next caller was: “Hello. This is Siri…” click. Siri does not have hands, so I sincerely doubt she is making this call.
Ring! “This is a call from your utility company to apologize…” click! They do have a lot to apologize for, but not with this scam. Besides, if they really want to apologize, they can put their apology in writing, with a dollar sign in front and a signature at the bottom.
RINGGG! I was losing patience, so I answered with my most ferocious voice:
“What?!”
Of course, it was my mother in law.
Next pandemic, first thing on my to-do list is getting a new Caller ID.
