Isolation

I spend a lot of time alone. It's always been true. The mommie and I lived with her parents. I'm not really sure how old they were when we moved in but they must have been in their late fifties or early sixties. The mommie went to work all day. There were a few aunts, uncles and cousins around but not many. I never really had a lot of friends. I spent a lot of time reading or playing with my dolls. I day dreamed.
I was socially active as a young adult but I still did things alone a lot. I liked to go out alone. I ate out alone. I went to movies alone. This was often a choice.
In my late twenties and early thirties I had a lot of friends. I lived in Boulder. I worked at a diner where I met people. It was possible at that time to walk to the mall or a restaurant or a bar and run into people. I still lived alone but I was around people most of the time. And. So. Then. I moved to NYC.
One of my favorite parts of living in the city was the anonymity. No matter where I went I did not know anyone. Well actually I did see someone from Boulder on the subways steps once. And I had a bar where I drank. and a few friends. But I was alone more often and I found that in gave me space to grow internally. Less input.
Restaurant work means you know people and are with people. Restaurant crews develop tight bonds because of the nature of the work. For most of my adult working life I was around people and had friends. I made friends easily.
The last years in SF were more isolated. I was out of work and had lost some physical mobility. People just weren't around as much. I still had friends and great neighbors but I was back to being alone.
I really like people. I want to be around them. I love conversations. Long conversations. Deep conversations. But I'm comfortable with a lot of time alone.
So this social isolation thing.
No.
Big
Deal. 
Except ... for the ... fear and loathing.
I have a lot of the symptoms of the virus most of the time. I wake up with a sore throat often. I drink water and it's gone. I am stuffy or have a runny nose in the morning. It mostly settles down. I've had a weird hacky cough for months now. Very random. My joints ache. I get really hot usually in the late afternoon or early evening. I talked to my doctor about it. It's residual menopause. I do not have a fever. I just checked. It's 96. something. It's always a little low.
The fear and loathing builds through the day. Too much information. Too many unknowns. By the end of the day I'm a little freaked out. Then I wake up with a stuffy nose and fumble through the morning and the day.
I am a very lucky person. I have a beautiful nest. I have a LOT of books. I have a refrigerator full of good food. Netflix, Amazon Prime, Hulu, PBS. And I have wonderful friends. I have been saying I'm not worried. I'm a little worried now. Not that I'll get sick and die (I might) (but I don't think I will) but that the unknowns are going to be relentlessly bad.
In my little city restaurants that were trying to do take out and delivery are closing. Not all of them but it seems like a new one closes every day. Oak street is quiet. The parks are closed. The schools are closed.
But for the moment. There are trees are budding just out side of my window. The sun is shining. I've had some lovely long distant phone calls in the past few days.
I'm going to make some tea and eat a cookie and read my book. Pretty much life like it always is.