My Corona Life

I was working in a fancy boutique with my young colleagues. There were always laughs, fun, and music if I excluded the annoying customers sometimes. They are Millenials and I am almost 20 years older but looking so young and fresh I fitted in.

My days were one like the other. Wake up, coffee, make lunch for a son then work. The only thing I hate the most is working on Sunday but people love to buy jeans especially on Sunday.

Then March came, we were all excited because our free day is coming soon, spring is on the pier, everything is perfect. But, we all know that perfection does not exist so spontaneously virus is starting to appear in the news, we ignored it.

Ignorance is bliss, they say. The wake-up call came faster than we expected. All of a sudden Worldwide Pandemic metamorphose in the Covid-19 virus. Consternation is ruling now. Work hours have changed, panic started and they send us on free paid days.

One year ago I went to my apartment with the hope of a “Soon it will be over” mood. Every day my hope was running away from me because The Quarantine starts. I feel unease when I wrote these sentences.

My kindergarten was called Ana Franck and sometimes in Quarantine felt like her. After home-job routine now starts a new home-market routine. It was so stressful ‘cause you got one chance to enter the market and bought everything for three days. First waiting in the line, only two customers may enter the store, must be quick inside with the head musk and after run to freedom, in this case, my room.

There is a first time for everything, head musk experience is the catastrophe first ever. My thoughts were: “How I look with this musk? What if somebody laughs at me?” and all of that vanity was so irrelevant in Pandemic.

Another first time was the social distance, have not seen my parents and friend for two months. I felt fall between cracks, unprotected, startled, kooky but did my best to not start panicking. Turned on the TV, numbers and bad news begun.

My only joy was cooking. I became a Jamie Oliver and Gordon Ramsey in one. Wake up and go to sleep with only one thought in my mind “What are we going to eat?” Cakes, cookies, pancakes, dough, meat specials, burgers, tone of pizza’s and sugar, spice, and everything nice. Fat, but happy.

In the beginning, we were trying to stay healthy, did some home workouts, counted the calories all the healthy life BS. And at once my logic started to change in if I going to die it is better to indulge myself, something like the last meal on death row prisoners.

On the surface, I played the Happy mom role for my son but beneath sorrow is cold-blooded reality. So many death numbers, percentages, predictions, learning a new way of a handshake, and no hugging and kissing were nonstop in my consciousness.

A month after month we were quarantined, gaining weight, posting tweets on Twitter, watching stories on Instagram, praying to God every day. I was joking about Love at the age of Cholera and thinking it is Mission Impossible to fall in love at the age of Covid-19.

Spring came, almost happy, summer came still almost happy and as a consequence of starring in the same wall for months, I have decided to make some changes. Quarantine was ended but the Pandemic was still here so initiated a search for an interior walls painter. I was focused on only one wall but…..

I post a tweet about my search, and people start to interest and offering their skills. Elected one guy, seems serious. He came, take a look, and estimate sky-high figures. Disappointment. Called another, he came and start with fairy tales. I will do this, I will do that but I was listening attentively thanks to his captivating smile. He was handsome, sparks were flying, happiness was boosting, the arrangement was made. Called mum, told her about the handsome painter, we laughed, joking about the relationship with him, future tend to be peachy.

Spoiler alert: it will not be.

It turned out his only interest was Me. No painting, no walls, no skimming compound nothing just me. He started to send me raunchy messages. I was enraged with his demeanor. The arrangement was off.

Weeping to my friend, she said: " You remember our old friend Nicolas maybe we can go out with him, what you think?” I was thinking: “Wow, Nicolas my ancient bae wonder how he looks now”. She arranged an encounter at her place, I put on make-up for the first time after four months, spray some perfume, and went there. We were chatting about the past, Covid-19 and then he said I have my own business, interior walls, it was a bombshell.

Destiny decides to mixed her fingers into my search for a painter and love at the age of Corona. A few days later he came to my place in one normal room once and a “prison” room now. After he measured and estimated everything, we sat for a coffee break. He glanced me in the eyes and kissed me. I know it sounds cliche and cheesy but it happened just like that. I was charged with new hopeful energy, maybe we are not going to die of Pandemic, maybe I will have beautiful walls and a boyfriend.

For the next three months transformation of my “prison” rooms, extended to other rooms too, was beyond my hopes and dreams. He painted the Sahara technique on my wall, so much thankful to him. My prison is now dazzling.

Fall and winter came, Pandemic was still here. When Sun lights disappear, our love relationship started to crumble. My birthday in December came, we put on our happy faces, ate the cake, and pretended everything is normal. New Year’s Eve came, I was really happy, he played Candy Crush on his phone.

In January we broke up, he ghosted me on social media.

One year in My Corona Life summary:

I have Sahara walls in my “prison” room

No boyfriend

No job

But Covid-19 is still here.