Liz Rasley

In my book, one of my favorite parts (to write, that is) was the “Quarantine Confessions,” a list of all the crazy things I did when the quarantine started and the world stopped. (Like watching all Marvel movies in order, and eating an insane amount of cheese balls. Did both overlap at the same time like a weird Venn diagram, while watching uber-fit actors take down bad guys? Perhaps.)

Anyways, felt like I needed to add another set of them now, as we’re in a different, more third-winter-of-discontent-in-80’s-Russia set of days, though we’re now just hitting fall. In short, we’re not the fresh, innocent wide-eyed hopefuls that we were in early May.

So…
Quarantine Confessions, six months later:

For the pros: These last 6 months I’ve taken better care of my health, worked out more, put on some muscle and in general, been better. But I’ve also gained weight and this moment in quarantine is now sponsored by plantain chips, pretzels, only dark chocolate and the occasional gummi bear situation which seems like I’ve leveled up. I haven’t.

My daughter and I marveled at the bees swarming in the backyard in April, amazed at the resilience of nature; the things we did not notice before. How did we blur through our days without noticing these things? Now I sit here amazed that people can still go to work and function despite the west coast a burning bright red apocalyptic horror story because of the fires.

The face and skincare game has never been better (or full of so many steps) and feeling pretty great about it, even about my crow’s feet. Which seem to have disappeared (cheese balls or face cream? Any guess is as good as mine.) …Until I get on Zoom and remember on the outside how I’ve aged about a thousand years with 24/7 family, kids, the incessant cooking and the baseboards needing a good cleaning.

We have a dog! Who loves us dearly and we love her so. And we have a dog! Who loves to dig holes and will tug on pants if she doesn’t get a walk and also, she’s a puppy with energy and chewing to spare and don’t leave anything anywhere near a floor or where her snoot could possibly get to.

Have never had so much time to read and watch movies/TV. Lovely and wonderful (especially the reading bit.) But what do you do when you’re bored of reading and bored of Zoom and bored of this seemingly endless moment in time but can’t do much about it?

Am happy to report I’m level 18 expert at navigating the store, crowds, how to shop around people even if they’re still making dinner decisions and chatting with their spouse in the middle of the aisle. (Come to my TED talk later on grocery stores and why you should go with a list and not stand in the MIDDLE of the aisle.) However, also now at the stage where going to the store causes slight panic, wears me out completely. I see on the horizon, a scenario in which my kids have to explain to their kids that Grandma’s “just that way” and that’s why all her groceries come to her door and she makes the sign of the cross if she has to enter a grocery store.

Our marriage and relationship is better, but also? We are getting tired of each other’s face and how they handle the loading of the dishwasher. For the record, my way of dishwasher loading is efficient too, but efficient in that I like to not break plates because the dishwasher is so “efficiently loaded.”

More time for baths and relaxation! = More time for existential dread and wondering what’s coming next. I thought we had a deal that it would stop at the murder hornets.

I could go on and on here, but I won’t. I will leave you with the uplifting thought that I’m not nearly as nervous as I was in the beginning of all this; I only have breakdowns now on Saturdays.

All that to say this: Hoping you all are hanging tight and staying well.

-Liz