What the Fuck is Going On?!

The first paragraph says it all.

If I’m going to be completely honest, I have no idea what the fuck is going on. I’m sitting in the bedroom of one of my childhood homes, dressed as what I can only say is Bill Murray as Steve Zissou from Wes Anderson’s “The Life Aquatic” does quarantine. I haven’t spent more than one night here in five years when I moved out just after my high school graduation. My mom, sister and I are quarantining. It’s day six, we have fourteen left before we are able to adhere, only, to the state of California’s “shelter in place” order.

My new lettuce planted quarantine day 11

Two weeks ago, I was a recent college graduate, working a retail gig, living at home with my dad, and saving up money for my impending cross country move with my now ex-boyfriend. In the span of a week, I have become unemployed, single, and left reeling in the wake of the complete cancellation of life as I knew it.
I’m sorry my privilege is showing, but not even I, a cis, white, upper-middle-class, twenty-two-year-old woman have been left unscathed by this pandemic. I have no idea what is going on, I have no idea what I am doing, let alone what I am supposed to be doing. Ok. I know what is going on globally, economically, politically. I know how bad this pandemic is, I know it’s only supposed to get worse. I know that right now the only thing I should be doing is practicing social distancing and quarantining. It doesn’t feel like enough. It just doesn’t.
My life, at least the one that I had all planned for myself, is over. I’m back at the drawing board trying to figure out what the fuck is next. For the first time in my life, however, I have no inkling as to how to even begin to solve that problem. It seems wrong for me to be making plans for my future as though none of this is happening, as though things will return to normal in two weeks, as though we won’t be recovering from this for years to come.

A baking atrocity I can only pretend is a six-layer lemon cake 

So, I’m doing the only thing I can rationalize. I’m living in the now. I’ve benched job and grad school applications, I’ve even benched prepping for the GRE, at least for the time being. I am striving to do the things that relieve my anxiety and bring me even the smallest amount of joy. I’m focusing on redefining my definition of productivity and success. It’s uncomfortable and hard. I’m finding myself being critical of how well I am using all of my new “free” time. As though cooking, gardening, and spending time with my family are unproductive and unenriching, slowing me down along my path to success. I’m learning to quiet my inner critic and in doing so allowing myself to practice the most radical form of self-care I ever could have imagined. I’m learning how to attune myself to my needs and how to meet them outside the expectations of productivity and success as defined by the great capitalist society that is the USA.