The privileges of irritation

The Resident Fan Boy is beginning his third week of working from home, which entails his work laptop on the dining room table, phone conferences, and video meetings.

That's not so bad. I can work around him. I can visit Demeter.

The tough thing is, RFB's volunteer work has also followed him home.

At various times of the day, and also on weekends - especially Sundays - our computer screen fills up with the faces of church volunteers, people who are mostly retired, and for whom such meetings are a welcome distraction.

For me, it's a bit like the 1990 movie Truly, Madly, Deeply, in which the heroine finds her home filled with her deceased lover's music-playing, video-watching dead friends. It spurs her to move beyond her lover's death and find a new love.

Not exactly an option for me; I'm still reasonably fond of the Resident Fan Boy.

Besides, if I needed perspective, it arrived in the form of a tweet this morning. Of course, I can't find it now - the volume of tweets on Twitter these days is considerable - but I believe it came from India, and the gist of it was this: Social distance is a privilege. Self-isolation is a privilege. Even a lock-down is a privilege. Many people don't have the personal space to "social distance" themselves. Many do not have comfortable homes in which to self-isolate - or a home at all, which means hand-washing is a hell of a challenge - to say nothing of WiFi. Let's not even get into the financial hardships being created/exacerbated by this thing.

A few tweets later, in an unfortunate juxtaposition, came this viral video. It's very popular. With people with large kitchens backing on a garden with parents who miss dining out.


Our kitchen is a tiny little galley kitchen, and our dining room is a corner near the window that would look over the parking lot, if not for the translucent reeded glass window. However, we have a large window overlooking the landscaping and the road beyond. The Resident Fan Boy has work. We have a home. We're together and, so far, everyone is healthy.

We'll skip the sommelier.