Yesterday I found myself locked in my bedroom, ear plugs jammed in, just staring at a blank Word Doc on my laptop. Escaping my family to write during a pandemic has been a feat to say the least.

Even as I type this now, my six-year-old is singing “run salmon, run, run, salmon” at the top of her lungs (yeah, like that won’t be stuck in my head later), and my four-year-old is asking me to stomp on PlayDoh with him. Most likely I’ll finish writing this post after they fall asleep. 

During the day however, my job requires me to develop content, preferably content not rife with errors. I’ve taken shelter during the morning hours in our basement in our storage/treadmill room, writing and taking Zoom meetings as a heard of Buffalo tap dance above me. I bite my tongue, repeat my mantra through a couple of deep breaths — after all, we’re all in this together, right? 

Right. Each day I remind myself how hard this is on my family too. My husband has taken a new shift just to accommodate my working hours. The luck of being able to work at all during this pandemic has not been lost on me either. I also think of my kids who have had to learn the hard truth that they’re done for the school year. I mean at this age, they love school, so it’s been hard not to hang out with friends every day. Then they learned that the playgrounds are closed too, and that birthdays are cancelled. It breaks my heart to see my daughter peer through the hole in the fence to get a glimpse of her friend next door. 

So while I would love to have all my sentences flow on to my screen like poetry, I guess for now, I am happy to stretch my writing hours into the evening despite how tired I am. I remember the true root to happiness lies in being grateful for things I have. Like how I am grateful I am for ear plugs. Lots and lots of ear plugs. 

How is everyone else managing out there? 

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