The youngest texted me yesterday to ask if she could go into coronavirus self isolation.
She went to a yoga class on Sunday with a girl whose school has since been shutdown due to the outbreak.
I suspected the youngest was just trying to get a few days off school, so we texted back and forth for a while, with me saying “no, you can’t stay home” and her arguing a lot, including this exchange:
I’d already had a stressful morning, so I was mid-way through a Pump class – trying to rid myself of anxiety – when I got that last message and started to panic a little.
She “probably” doesn’t have it. She “just” has a sore throat.
I wasn’t sure of the etiquette in such situations, so I told the youngest she definitely needed to go to the office and inform them. I didn’t want to end up in the news as the selfish cause of the latest high school outbreak.
The office staff freaked out and sent her straight to the principal.
The principal said it would probably be fine, but within a few hours emails started landing in my inbox from the school about how they were intending to handle potential quarantine situations.
They asked for the names of three people who were authorized to collect my child at short notice if an emergency occurred.
My work stress started to pale a little in the face of coronavirus shite getting real.
I also missed half of the sit-ups track and the stretching at the end of Pump because I was so busy texting stuff to the youngest like: “Go to the office! Go to the office now! Did you touch the girl during the yoga class? Is she sniffling?”
Plus additional texting to my ex and DD for their opinions.
I told the eldest about the latest high school shutdown, but they were already up to speed. The eldest is obsessed with the coronavirus and gives me daily updates on how many people have it and how many have died overnight.
Cheery conversations those.
The eldest is convinced their school will be next to shut down.
These here are crazy times.
I’m beginning to wonder what it means for the rest of the year. The youngest and I are meant to be at the World Skipping Championships in July. Worst case scenario: we have a three-week holiday in Hawaii.
Unless it gets shut down too.
Meanwhile, people in my neck of the woods can’t get appointments to see the doctor if they have temperatures, which I thought was one of the main reasons you saw a doctor.
I suppose you don’t want someone with coronavirus simmering in your waiting room. But it’s still a bit of a worry.
Yep, these here are crazy times.
Song of the day: Pink “Just like a pill”