Journals from Quarantine

3/26/20

Day 10:

  I went for a bike ride this morning with a friend.  The grass was green, the sun was warm, and the wind was crisp.  The birds chirped without a care in the world, and the swallowtails have started building their nests under the highway overpass like they do every year.  It was cold last night, so the grass in the shade has the white blanket of frost covering it, and when I accidentally swerve off the path it crunches under my wheels.  It seems just like an ordinary spring day, but there are a few things wrong with it.  Firstly, during an ordinary spring, I would never have had time to take an hour long bike ride.  I would have had homework, and school on the weekdays.  Secondly, it feels kind of illegal.  My friend and I are sure to not touch each other, and stay on opposite sides of the path when there's no one else there, but we are still wary of being called out.  Thirdly and lastly, the outdoors feels too new.  On an ordinary day, I will be outdoors all the time walking from class to class through our outdoor school.  I will hang out outside waiting for swim practice to start two hours after school.  I will go for a run around the school with my team, dying with every step.  But now, the outdoors feels special, like a sanctuary that can only be entered once or twice a day, and not with other people.

    The other day, I went on a walk with my siblings, and we passed in front of a house with a couple that was probably around 60-70 years old sitting in front of it. 

     They jokingly shouted, "Make sure you stay six feet away from each other!"  Or maybe it wasn't a joke, and they were telling us off for a perceived offence.

    I shouted back, "We live in the same house, so it's a little late now!"  They laughed.  We laughed.  Joking about it felt like looking at PSAT memes, slightly illegal, but everyone is in on it, and nobody really cares if you're technically breaking the rules.  And just like the PSAT memes, it's a population with a shared terrible experience making jokes to cope with this strange new reality.

    So I think that right now, humor is one of our best tools.  If you're stuck in your house all day, laugh about how messy your room is getting.  If your sports have been cancelled, joke that you're finally getting a break.  And if you miss your friends, joke about what you'll do when you can finally see each other again, and how annoying the internet connection is.  Don't think about how annoying your brother is, or how much you hate that you haven't heard your friend's real voice in two weeks.