Apr 26, 2020

Re-Visiting My Home During COVID-19

By Julia Mortimer

There’s that moment, when you first open your eyes in the morning, when you forget about the state of chaos the world is burdened with right now. My day begins with the excitement of having my Rook cold brew (would it be sad if I said it was the highlight of my day?) I do a little dance as I take the first sip and check the weather app, praying there’s a sunny day ahead. The days are long and generally filled with little urgency which means each thing I do, I can take my time. I make breakfast, noticing the morning light coming through the window and the sound of the eggs crackling in the pan.

Nice weather is one of the only things keeping me sane – having the freedom to sit on the deck in the sun reading a book, doing homework and/or spending time with my family. So, thankfully the sun decided to accompany me this morning. I bring my coffee and laptop outside and log onto Facebook to join the South Carolina Aquarium live stream where they tour the entire aquarium. They host a lot of other short segments focused on a variety of animals, and the tours are weekly (that is subject to change). It’s a peaceful way to start the day. After the tour, I close my laptop and put my phone away to focus on the bustle of nature happening in my backyard. Beyond my backyard lies a woodsy area, where the birds are chatting and the deer are grazing as my two dogs, Cooper and Haddie, stare intently. I’m trying to share the same philosophies as my dogs. They are accustomed to living in the moment, to focus on what’s in front of them. No overthinking occurs in those furry, little puppy heads. They see a squirrel, they chase the squirrel. No hesitation. To stare out onto the lawn or the activity occurring beyond the yard feels almost meditative.

With the world at a standstill, there’s a feeling of simplicity that washes over me, as the future is uncertain and the days are meant to drift by. The to-do list is filled with arbitrary activities to fill the days and the yearning for a sense of purpose. Once the hours begin to feel as though they are lasting forever or I am evidently procrastinating homework, I’ll sometimes take a drive. The scenic ride down West Front Street, the street I’d spent every day on, is now lacking its usual haste and bustle. Broad Street in Red Bank is missing its gracious community. The driving around comes to an end when I look at the time and realize I have an online lecture to attend.

I’ve been trying to make the best out of having to switch to online classes, which is a more difficult task than I thought it would be. My motivation is at an all-time low, paired with my incessant senioritis. But I just keep reminding myself that it will be over soon enough and down the line, I’ll miss those bothersome assignments.

Having the ability to actually spend time with my family has already brought us closer together, as cheesy as that sounds. In such uncertain times, each day I’m grateful for still having a family I can laugh with until I have a stitch in my side. They make each day brighter and make me look forward to opening my eyes again