It’s 7:53am on a Saturday morning. I’ve been up since 5:16. Woke up to the sound of the cat barfing. Which seems like an apt simile for 2020.

On March 12th, which was a Thursday, I arrived at work and started my morning routine; put my lunch in the fridge, poured some coffee out of my thermos, setup the laptop, and launched the necessary programs I typically use during the day. Opening my inbox, I saw an email from HR stating the growing concerns about COVID-19. They asked that everyone work from home until the following Friday. I remember thinking “sweet... work from home for a whole week!”

What a naive thought that was.

You know the rest of the story, unless you’ve been under a rock. Businesses, the economy, people’s livelihoods, all took a major hit. Every day I’m thankful that I have a job I can do remotely full-time. A lot of people weren’t as lucky.

Having done full-time remote work before, I had an idea of what to expect. This time, however, there was COVID-19 to also deal with. I work in my basement, and there’s one small window that lets in light. It’s the quintessential man cave. Previously, after working several days in a row and not leaving the house, the wife could tell I was getting a bit squirrelly and would take me to our local pub and meetup with friends and talk over a pint or three. This “mini-reset” always helped and the next couple of weeks would be fine.

I don’t have that outlet now thanks to the pandemic, and the worst of it, it seems like my pub has gone under and will not be opening again. That hurt more than I expected, honestly. The wife and I have been going there for at least 10 years. We’ve become friends with the crew. We’ve introduced our friends to the pub, and several of them became regulars. We were always invited to the “Regulars” Christmas party, where they shut down the bar to patrons and had insane drink specials ($2 for a pint that normally cost $5? I’ll take three please!). It was our “Cheers”.

That’s gone. Nearly everything else is closed, though some restaurants are opening patio seating now. But it’s not the same. I don’t have that outlet to turn to when my brain is slowly turning to tapioca after working too many hours, with the gray walls of my basement and whatever is on the turntable playing in the background (lately, it’s been the classical station on the radio).

So we walk the neighborhood. I go to the grocery store. Clean the house and do yard work. Stuff I used to do because it needed to be done is now stuff I do because I’m bored. Today is Saturday, and my big plan is to sweep and Swiffer our wood floors. Life in the fast lane baby.

The routine is slowly getting to me. Parts of it I very much look forward to; my morning coffee and yogurt with granola (banana on the side, please) at 10:00am. Poker Friday nights with the boys (more on that in a bit). Sitting on our recently completed deck, talking about the day’s highlights and lowlights with the wife over a beer and glass of wine. But the sameness can be maddening all the same. The problem with this forced routine is the lack of spontaneity. Aside from messaging my group of friends and asking who’s wanting to meet up at the pub after work, I’m also missing having lunch with co-workers. Realizing that what I packed just isn’t going to do it, and deciding I want to go out for lunch instead.

Getting on the motorcycle and heading west to wherever is still an option... but stopping in at a local watering hole, or visiting a touristy spot, or seeing some live music isn’t. Riding is still nice, but it’s not the same.

One bright spot is the poker games on Friday nights. I’ve been playing with this same group of guys for many years, some for more than 15. We’ve done White Elephant poker parties, have yearly trips planned that have seen us go from a cabin on Lake Anna, to camping along the Shenandoah River (both in Virginia), to a house along the shores of Lake Winnisekape in New Hampshire, and celebrated birthdays by renting casino equipment, hiring dealers, and dressing up in tuxedos. This is a great group of guys and one of the brighter sparks in the dull existence of my world as of late.

While not the same as getting around the poker table and handling cards and chips, we’ve managed to make it work, via Amazon Chime and pokernow.club. We’ve tried various poker apps with varying degrees of success, but for the past 6 weeks or so, we’ve been using Poker Now, and it’s been great. And the frequency with which we play has increased fourfold. Previously, we would try to get in a game once a month. Now it’s weekly, and occasionally twice a week.

Sometimes I think having the poker game at the end of the week is the only thing keeping me sane.

Getting out in the fresh air, and walking the neighborhood helps too. That can get a bit boring, but recently the wife purchased two different types of trash picker-uppers. One the “stab it” kind, and the other a “grab it” kind. We’ve gotten in the habit of grabbing a trash bag, our trash picker-uppers and collecting trash throughout the neighborhood. Makes the walk a bit more interesting and it make the ‘hood a bit nicer.

Now that the weather is starting to turn, I wonder how the lack of walking will affect the mood. Exercise is important; I know I don’t do near the amount I need to. When it gets cold, it gets harder to convince ourselves to bundle up and go walking.

I’m more than ready for this pandemic to be under control. Completely tired of the selfish and stupid people who want to have their parties and their weddings and not wear masks and live life normally. I get it. I want that too, but the only way we’re going to get there is if we get it under control. Congregating in large groups without masks is not the way to do it.

God dammit, I’m so sick and tired of the people who have their heads buried in the sand.