So I've lost track of the days. I remember the Friday - how many weeks was it ago? When I stood in the parking garage elevator clasping my computer monitor, prepared to work from home for however long it took. I thought it would be like a week.

I was so wrong.

Now I think it will be until at least the end of April.

I just left a ten dollar bill under a rock for my Door Dasher. It'll be the first food not prepared by us we've eaten in two weeks.

The little angel hasn't spoken in person to anyone her age in as long.

Today I saw some week-old kittens. We went to the barn, where there were considerably fewer humans than lambs, goats, cats and horses. We kept a six-foot distance from the humans.

Oh, but it's spring, and it's warmer, and it's windy.

It's terrifying to not be able to plan for a week, a month from now.

The news every day is awful.

I've become too paralyzed to write. I've almost decided to delay my next novel until the little angel goes to college.

I almost wonder if it will take that long for the world to right itself.

My incisions sort of burn. They will heal soon. It's weird to think that I've finally achieved my breast cancer door prize. That it's over, as incredibly bizarre as the surgeries were.

ONWARD.

It's been a while since I've been any sort of regular blogger. But hello, 2020! What a nice surprise to remind us that sometimes journaling is important.

So ... my second surgery to end the breast cancer reconstruction experiment 2020 is scheduled for Wednesday. 48 hours from now. And I'm not sure at all that it will actually happen at this moment. Life is that fluid.

I left work on Friday, huge monitor in hand, kind of in shock. We were told we'd be working from home for the near future. Some friends left for spring break. I thought about my daughter's sweet 16th birthday sleepover. Life felt pretty normal.

Monday. Bars, restaurants shut down. Co-workers on spring break domestic and abroad all but stranded. New normal all Microsoft Teams meetings. Meanwhile, industry charges on.

My surgeon called me. Told me as of this minute, I'm still having my procedure on Wednesday.

Cried twice today.

Co-worker's wedding just got cancelled. Multiple people on my team worried about being single parents having to homeschool their elementary school children while also working.

Nobody has toilet paper, milk or butter.

I write young adult novels. I read all these stories in the late 2000s. 

WHAT IS HAPPENING?

So, I decided to come back to blogging in this bizarre social experiment called COVID-19. 

Today, we contemplated cancelling my little angel's sweet 16. Today, a co-worker had to cancel her damn wedding. Today, I have friends flung wide domestic and abroad, and I'm actually worried about them getting home. I don't recognize my country or my world.

And at the same time, my world has shrunk to the less than 2k square feet of my home. The three people and one cat who reside here.

For the next eight weeks - is this it?

What the hell happened to us?