Trying Not to Go Crazy

Tough week, am I right?

I don't know what it's like at your house, but from where I'm sitting, it feels like the whole world is on a snow day while I'm stuck in the office.  I know -- in my head -- that I'm lucky that I'm working and that our daily routines haven't been as badly disrupted as they could have been.

From Friday.  This is our daily happy hour ritual.

Many, many people have it much, much worse.  I get that.  But in my heart, I'm still mourning our vacation to St. Thomas.  At the same time, my wife is out of work, and because we've already got one down in my office, I'm working as hard as ever.  So at least for now, we're looking at a long, hard slog without a break in sight.  Can't ski, can't go to the beach, can't really do anything except stay in the office and continue plugging away.

With the pools closed and my road bike in the shop, I was left to take this heavy beast out on Saturday.

People are dying.  I get that.  Worse, maybe, are the many doctors and nurses who're about to get slammed in an unending Hell of 12-hour shifts in overwhelming personal protective equipment (PPE).

That would suck.

Not everyone is equally at risk.  I have a good friend in rural New Hampshire.  I get why he's not overly concerned about this thing.  Another friend lives in Syracuse, and while he may get hit eventually, that city is not yet a hotspot or anything.  But I'm in Manhattan, folks.

It's not a question of if I'll be exposed.  It's a question of when.

Obligatory selfie during a family hike last week.

Family Hike: a picture of a picture.

Other folks have it worse.  I totally get that.  But I'm still sad right now, not least because there's no end to this thing in sight.