A Quarantined Life Part 6: This is a Marathon
So a friend of mine popped up on the ‘book yesterday and said, “I sure hope Netflix is planning on releasing Ozark seasons 4–50 in the next couple of days, because season 3 took less than 24 hours. Now what?”
For those of you who have not seen Ozark, I’m not about to get into how addictive it can be for many people. While not meant for children at all, the adult fans always feel this child-like wonder when a new season drops on Netflix. My wife and I looked at each other and jinxed by squealing “Here we go!” while hitting play on the first episode of Season 3.
And by the end of it, we both said, “Whiskey tango foxtrot?!” Just when you think you know what’s going to happen, the curves are so severe that they tend to hit you in the back of the head, and while you think you knew what was coming, you were wrong. It is a masterclass in slow-burn suspense.
And the shows are intense. Like… really intense… which is why I was so shocked that my friend finished them like his life depended on it.
But then I thought about how life used to be before COVID-19. There were so many responsibilities that had to be taken care of, and a finite amount of time to do them. House work. Taking care of the kids. Yard work. Cooking. Cleaning. Multiple weekend sports. Fitting in your favorite shows. Not going crazy.
Now? Even while working from home, many of us have time on our hands like we haven’t had since grade-school summer vacay. Our brains are still in the same mode of having to get things done quickly to fit them in, but many of us haven’t caught up with the fact that we have, in many cases, 500% more time on our hands than before.
For me, there are two dozen things that have to be done around the house. I tackle one a day, as I have forced myself into the mode that life at present is not the sprint that it’s been for the better part of a decade. This is, indeed, a marathon. It’s a time in life where to help the grocery store and pharmacy and health-care and first-responder sprinters do what they do to keep us safe and fed and healthy, we need to hang at the back of the pack… six feet apart, of course… and make the most of this slower pace.
Because I already know that once the sprint starts back up, while I will be happy to go back to normalcy, I will also miss what Ferris Bueller talked about all those years ago.
Stay home. Stay safe. Stay sane.