It turns out I live with a very moody woman from time to time. She can be a real piece of work. I’ve tried sending her to her room when she acts up but she refuses to go. She follows me everywhere – if I’m in the kitchen, there she is – she accompanies me to the bathroom – hell I can’t even unload her when I take the dogs for a walk. She is persistent, persnickety and cranky. Sometimes. She hasn’t been herself lately. Unfortunately I live alone and this unwelcome roommate is me, I have to own the moodiness.
I didn’t know I was so hard to live with. If I were to have described myself before the challenges of today I would have said I was easy going, I would have said I was patient, I may even have said I was thoughtful. Not these days. Thank goodness my dogs can’t talk – Chester in particular might have some very unflattering tales to tell. I’ve been less than all the things I used to pride myself on being. I have been that piece of work.
I’m not the only one in this situation – just about everyone I know is doing this self isolation thing (most of the people I know are Canadian seniors – we are really good at following the rules). Some of us are coping better than others – those of us living alone are basically sick of our own company, some of those who have partners are trying to figure out how to get away with murder. These are not the best of times and from time to time they don’t bring out the best in us. But sometimes they do.
I’ve heard so many stories lately of people going the extra mile. I watch the news almost constantly and can’t believe the dedication and courage of the people facing this pandemic on the front lines. I am in awe of the collective human spirit.
I’m going to cut myself a bit of slack for the recent snarkiness but I’m going to try a little harder to do my part in these self isolating times with a better attitude. We are all in this together, the least I can do is to try and be a decent roommate.