Doesn’t really matter what day it is, as all days are alike now. I think the one thing that’s been lacking during this exceptional time is that I haven’t given enough advice. So, I thought today I would remedy that today by giving you 7 pieces of advice for surviving your current social isolation. I know we’ve all been at it for a few weeks (who even knows) and we have no idea when it will all be over (hopefully not with a big ball of fire) but maybe you’re flagging, and just don’t know how to cope. Let me help you by telling you what to do as you contemplate the cruel month of April.
One–Keep Looking at that Ticker!
And go ahead and make some Anxiety Soup. Seriously, that soup looks delicious. I tried to stop looking at the ticker this week, but Matt diligently told me the number every night anyway. When the world hit a million, he waved his hands a little bit. It was pretty amazing. The great thing about looking at the ticker all the time is that if you ever happen to gain a bit of perspective, or get a sense of humor back, or start thinking about something else, you can immediately get back where you need to be—which is basically just where you are now, stewing about the insanity of it all.
Two–Throw Away Your Routine
This should have been first. The Main Thing is not in anyway to impose any kind of order over yourself or your family if they are underfoot. Don’t wake up at a decent hour. Don’t practice good sleep hygiene. Just keep looking at the internet all the time. Don’t cook anything nice to eat. Don’t try to think about any of the good that might come from this trial, either for you or anyone else. Just focus on how terrible it is all the time (so far that seems to be working well for me).
Three–Don’t Observe Holy Week or Celebrate Easter
I mean, how can you even. That’s what I’ve been telling myself—How Can I Even. Boy it would have been great to develop some kind of family observances of this important week instead of fully and completely relying on the church for all my liturgical and devotional needs. Kind of late to start now. Might as well just mope around all week being angry and sad. That’s my plan. I’m not gonna try and go out and get some matzo and apple juice so I can do the Catechesis Last Supper with my kids on Sunday even though that wouldn’t actually even be that hard. And gosh, I’m not gonna rush around and find some extra candles to see if maybe we could do a private Tennebrae as well as watching the one we’ll be doing online. And there’s no point doing anything else. For sure, I and my children will just cry through the week—it’s the only way.
Four–Instead of Praying or Reading Interesting Books…
Make your Own Masterclass based on what you know Now. For me, that will be how to repeatedly and unrelentingly clean up cat and dog mistakes in my laundry room because even though we are all home all day and could totally let them out except that it’s no one’s job to follow them around so basically what I do is just go in there over and over, scream with rage, clean it up, and then wait two hours and do it again. Let’s see, I could also do a Master Class on how to feel bad about the fact that even though we’re all home and have nothing else to do, we are nevertheless behind on school. Also, a Master Class on forgetting to plant bulbs and therefore only having one single tiny tulip come up—that’s it.
Five–Feel the deep sense of helplessness—
how all the principalities and powers of the world have made you stay home, and this could potentially be overblown and could absolutely destroy the world economy—and rage against your fate. This one is my favorite. This one is the best. Also, instead of reading and praying through the Psalms, and pondering the sovereign mercy of Christ who loved the world so much that he came into our helpless estate and saved us, meditate on the fact that apparently he isn’t doing anything now, so it must be that he doesn’t care anymore, even though he always has cared before, but because we can’t know why this is happening right this moment, it must be that there is no reason for it at all.
Six–For Heaven’s Sake, Do Not Take Any Exercise.
I tried taking some exercise early on, but it was kind of a lot of work, and hard because I’m always with everyone all the time, and I really prefer to lie pathetically on my exercise watching thin people dance around on youtube Alone. I don’t want to be watched. I don’t want to do this “with” anyone else. But everyone is here—all.the.time—so basically I’ve concluded that it’s better to give up instead of working it out. It’s what Jesus would want me to do—give up.
Seven–Feel Really Bad For Not Urban Homesteading
Man, I really should have stockpiled and prepped. I feel really bad about this. I should have kept some seeds and cleaned my house better before all this. Cleaning it right now is stupid. Also, I wish I had a goat, or a tiny tiny cow. Not that I need milk. I’m totally able to buy milk in the store, and basically everything else that I need, but I wish I was self-sustaining and kicking myself about that right now seems a lot better than thinking about anything else like the fact that this house is ideally suited for social isolation—look at this little wall I built so Matt can’t see me from his desk anymore. It’s like I’m not even here.
Well, there you are. My tried and true advice for another month of quarantine, or whatever this is called. Go check out more functional takes!