Guilt Is Self-Created, and Yesterday I Was a Glutton for Guilt, Although My Inner Researcher Kicked In and I Lost Myself

I'm on the University response team, ready for any and all who need assistance moving to an online platform. Although I'm not the Jays, Emilies, or Carol Anns, I am fully aware they are working 24/7 to stay on top of the transitions. I, however, needed to familiarize myself with Quip, Blackboard (can't believe people still use that), and tricks of ZOOM. My classes are set for Monday and Tuesday, as I expect I will be needed to assist my colleagues.

I woke up with a tremendous headache. At first I thought, "Oh, fudge, Dallas caught up to me." I can say, however, that it was sinuses, as I recognize those headaches because my forehead and ears throb. A cup of coffee and ibuprofen took care of that. As I'm always with allergies, runny noses, and a cough, I monitored that, as well. Phlegmy...not dry. That was good.

By 11 a.m., I was watching videos from virologists from Princeton and Stamford. I was reading up on China, Italy, and Iran. I was still trying to ration between the reality and the way reality was being reported to us.

Then I got obsessed. I realized I can't do this, so I went for a long run making a list of things I can do that are in my control (I didn't get to any of them, because my inner-control freak kicked in, and I wanted to arm myself with as much knowledge as I could...reading predictions, following trends, refreshing my mind from AP Biology courses, watching YouTube videos, and trying to make sense of how a pandemic is being reported in our own country and from news agencies around the world). I'm not OCD...I'm just OCD. I couldn't stop.

Meanwhile, I didn't accomplish my own goals. Granted. This is spring break and my many of my colleagues and I have yet to take a break as if it was spring. We're simply not cut that way. We check in on one another to figure out what we might do in the case of (a) or in the case of (b) or even in the case of (c). We think our way through everything, and it never stops.

Nature has a different plan for us, however. It's fascinating to watch as things unfold. I've become obsessed with numbers. Numbers tell stories that human creativity lacks. We fill it up with narrative, and sharing, and imagination. I just want to know statistics. I want to know how long there will be a toilet paper crisis.

Meanwhile, Big Y might be out of meats, vegetables, sanitizers, eggs, and milk, but they had the peanut butter cup cookies I love so much, which were the perfect treat before falling asleep last night, all while feeling the guilt that I didn't review the two articles on my plate or finish a book chapter that is due.

Spring break is a time for catching up, but this spring break I've been in overdrive preparing for the million and one possibilities ahead.

Cookie = comfort food.

Meanwhile, I talked to family in CNY and they are just starting to wash their hands and to think about  the reality coming their way. It's weird to hear this, as we've been in defense mode for a lot longer. As we've been locked down, so many are simply meandering and moving and breathing and, well, sharing. That's the weirdness of it all.

I hope it doesn't come their way. If it does, I'm not too worried, as even Stephen King has claimed, "This is not The Stand." Still, the numbers. Could be something else. Hoping we have reacted in time, and that the predictions that the majority will simply have a cough and headache are true. I want it kept from the vulnerable, however, including Butch and Sue who will kill each other before they give in to a virus.

And it's all harder because there's no Syracuse, Louisville, or Kentucky basketball to distract my thinking (and to allow myself mental breaks). For work-a-holics like me, I need distractions.

We all need distractions.

Today, I will be more focused on what I should have done yesterday. That is the way guilt works.