The Quarantine Breakdown

I seriously need a MF break.

The past two weeks have been extremely stressful as I deal with infections in the recovery stage of COVID-19 and trying to get my boss to comprehend that no longer COVID-19 positive doesn’t mean completely better or able to work my regular 50+ hours a week. Or take on the stress of last-minute projects.

Right now, I am working my regular job, needing to execute PR with my boss, and playing the role of counselor to my team. Many of my employees are living on their own for the first time in their life, and if that isn’t stressful enough, they are also separated from most of their friends and family due to shelter in place. They are doing their best, trying to rest and be healthy while dealing with the anxiety of being physically alone.

I already had a cry today because I just don’t have anything left to give.

Then some irresponsible, selfish adult decided to break the sprinkler heads off on the 5th floor of my building, setting off the fire alarms.

No one knew that there wasn’t a fire; we just needed to evacuate the building quickly while waiting for the fire department.

In trying to gather my cats, I had to make the emotionally draining, painful, conscious decision that I’d have to leave Boots behind because I couldn’t catch him. My oldest, Tigger, wouldn’t come out from under my bed, so I injured my neck and arm muscle trying to pull him out, and Grace was so freaked out that my curtains were literally torn off the walls.

I finally was able to leave my apartment with two of them. Minutes later, we were there was no fire—only completely flooded floors on the 4th and 5th. The alarms continued to go off for another hour before the fire department turned them off.

Do you know how loud the alarms are? So loud that my cat ripped the curtains off my wall, that’s how loud.

I haven’t even eaten yet. I’m nauseated, exhausted, still experiencing many lingering symptoms of COVID, all while working 12.5 hrs today. And the alarms went off less than 10 minutes off work.

I hate this day; I hate this month. I can’t even hang my curtains back up because I’m too short to reach the top. Can 2020 just be over?

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