The Return of the Blog...

March 29, 2020. New York City. Trying to find my willpower to do something anything again. It’s been 7 months and 2 days since I moved back to New York from The Netherlands. 7 months and 2 days since I told myself I would start blogging about my new adventures re-discovering my home upon my return. I had the new name picked out since I knew I was moving home: The Adventures of NEWAmsterDayna. Thank you to the Dutch for colonizing New York in 1624. You made that too easy.

So, why now? Well, when your home becomes the new epicenter of a global pandemic, why not?!

A lot of friends around the country and around the world have been checking in (thank you!) after seeing and hearing about the growing number of COVID-19 cases in the United States, and the staggering percentage in New York State (and subsequently New York City).

The last two weeks have been daunting. That’s putting it mildly.  

I’ve been working from home since Friday, March 13^th. Friday the 13^th. The irony was not lost on me given the events of the day.

If you followed my adventures the last few years via this blog, you know I don’t really ever write about work. That is intentional for many reasons. I spend so much time working that when I ‘turn off’ to do something else – to write, to see friends, to travel, etc. – I like to keep things separate. That, and also what happens at work does not belong out on a public blog. I intend to keep it that way.

But I will say this. I spent two years working in crisis and issues management in Amsterdam, and I’ve never been more thankful for that opportunity. Nothing can fully prepare you for what is going on right now. There is no playbook. No guide. But it did teach me a lot. More than I ever could’ve imagined. And for that I am truly grateful to those who taught me.

In my current role, I am part of my company’s COVID-19 task force. It’s been a busy few weeks. It’s been an emotional roller-coaster. It’s been 24/7.

Week 1 was ‘not so bad.’ I say that lightly. There was little sleep, and no shutting down, but there was this weird energy, or adrenaline rather. We didn’t know what was going to happen next. We were exhausted, and hit with major challenges, and emotional circumstances but we somehow made it through. Everyone adjusted to the new normal. It was not bad using video conferencing technology. 

Week 2 was, for me, a complete nightmare. I live alone and that’s never been an issue. But what makes this different is that in ‘normal times’ my life outside is so full. I am always busy working, seeing friends, seeing shows, traveling. The amount of time I actually spend at home by myself is so limited, that when I do have a day here and there to just ‘rest’ it’s always been a welcome reprieve.

Week 2 for me felt like a suffocating trap where the walls were closing in. Even though I made an extreme effort to get up and get dressed (real clothes, no sweats!) every day, it was the harsh realization that this is the new normal. It was the harsh realization that video conferencing is actually extremely exhausting. It was the harsh realization that back-to-back meetings all day without taking a moment to get up and move, or shut the damn camera off, is not only draining, but damaging for your physical and mental well-being.  

It was also the harsh realization that this is my third time in isolation in just 4 months. Quick recap of what you missed when I wasn’t blogging:

• I had an emergency appendectomy two days after Thanksgiving and was bedbound for a few weeks. Ok, so I wasn’t totally isolated. In fact, I was lucky enough to be surrounded by my whole family, whom I love dearly, as the episode took place while celebrating the holiday at my sister’s outside DC. BUT, it was a form of isolation: I missed all the holiday parties, I missed Christmas in NYC (I mean, why even bother moving back to NY if you’re going to miss out on the happiest season in the city), was in excruciating pain and couldn’t move for weeks, and when I thought this would be a grand time to catch up on all the TV I never get to watch, I got stuck mostly watching Mickey Mouse Clubhouse with my niece. When I finally made it back to NY, I was still too weak to do anything or see anyone.
• I had the flu in February, which basically knocked me out and took me out of commission for pretty much 3 weeks. I think I made it into the office 2 or 3 times over the course of those 3 weeks, and I saw my friends even less. It was pretty bad.

Finally healthy and rearing to go, back in the gym, back out and about and bam: enter COVID-19.  The most uncertain, unprecedented thing to happen since, dare I say, 9-11. Week 2 was a lot to handle emotionally.   

But I sit here today, with a new sense of renewed energy. I have no idea where it came from, but I am thankful I’ve found it. I am healthy when so many around me are not. I have food when so many around me do not. I get to work safely inside my own home when so many around me cannot.

What’s it like outside? I know that is what a lot of you are wondering. Well, it’s not fully the desolate picture of a New York frozen in time that is being painted on some news programs. It might be in Midtown – a bleak Times Square void of tourists and using the larger-than-life screens to remind people to stay home, social distance, and thanking our healthcare workers and first responders for being on the frontline of this war.

On the Upper West Side, where I live, it definitely is quiet. More quiet than usual. At night I can hear the horn from the Metro North trains roaring – that is over 3 miles away. That is weird. I hear people at 7:00pm clapping for the healthcare workers from their balconies or windows, and my apartment does not face the street. The stores on Columbus Avenue that I would normally pass every day are shuttered – coffee shops, flower shops, the cleaners, a deli. All closed. All with their own version of a heartfelt message on the door urging passersby to stay home and do their part in flattening the curve so that one day soon the stores can reopen. I pray that will be the case.

For my big adventure today, I went to the grocery store. I’ve gone two weeks without going. Could I try my hand at delivery? Sure. But truthfully, the horror stories of systems not working and limited availability are not enticing, and I really needed fresh air. My logic: it’s raining out and gray. We’re in the middle of a pandemic. How many people will actually be out?

So I filled my handbag with all the essentials: extra pair of gloves, hand sanitizer, tissues. I put on my rain boots, zipped up my coat, put on my washable Lululemon gloves, grabbed an umbrella and off I went.

Originally I thought I’d go to the smaller market that I like to frequent. It’s nice to shop local, and also I thought it would be less crowded. However, whilst discovering my newfound willpower to ‘do things’ today, I also decided tomorrow, March 30^th, I am going to start the Whole 30 program again. And this meant needing to go to a bigger grocery store to stock up on some specific ingredients.

What’s Whole 30? Read here. But basically: no dairy, no gluten, no sugar and no alcohol for 30 days. That would bring me to my birthday: April 30^th. Why in the world would I do such a thing to myself right now? Because it will help me maintain that willpower. It will help me gain some energy. It will help me feel good. Wish me luck!

So, I ventured out to Trader Joe’s. A mere 6 blocks away. I passed very few people on the street. It is strange, this new society, where everyone looks away for fear of catching a whiff of breath coming from someone else’s mouth. There are lots of people with masks. If you do happen to catch their eyes, I can’t tell if they are showing that typical polite, neighborly smile underneath the mask. We, New Yorkers, are not a society that speaks with their eyes.

I approach the store and am not surprised to see the line wrapped around the building, expanding up 92^nd street. I join the queue. 6 feet behind the couple in front of me. A man approaches. He gets in line. 6 feet behind me.

My glasses fog up almost immediately. They are sprayed by the mist coming from the sky. I wore them because I have not yet received my new order of contacts and I am running uncomfortably low. I won’t take them off to wipe because I don’t want to put my gloved hands near my face and risk touching my eye. Foggy glasses it is. Oh well. It could be so much worse.

As I catch up on episodes of The Daily podcast, the line creeps along. The couple in front of me moves up. I do too. Maybe too many steps too fast because they turn back and give me a ‘look’ as if I just said something nasty to them. My bad. I took a few steps back. I can’t help it. I’m a fast-paced New Yorker and I’m not used to this. Give me a break!

I finally round the corner and am back on Columbus, only about 20 feet from the store. So close, yet so far. Even though I have my big coat on, it’s damp from the mist and I am starting to get cold. I can tell the store is one in-one out, as it should be and knew it would be, to control the crowd in the store. Between the cold and the line, if I close my eyes tight I can travel back in time. When else would I have felt this way? Perhaps 10 years ago waiting outside to get into some club on the Lower East Side during winter who also had a one in, one out policy. But I would’ve been surrounded by friends. Those were different days.

A loud noise snaps me back to reality. It’s coming from the police car stationed outside the store watching the line. It blasts some pre-recorded message over the megaphone – something about social distancing. I can’t pause the podcast quick enough with my gloved hand to fully catch what it was saying. But I don’t need to, I already know. I don’t know if I should laugh or cry. This is truly unreal.

And then my mind drifts again. This looks like a scene from East Berlin, or any European country east of the iron curtain in the 1960s. This doesn’t look like New York.

Cabs zip by with the advertisements on top aglow – one Broadway show after another being advertised. I think about how I was supposed to see Mrs. Doubtfire – the new musical – with two of my best friends on April 7^th.

But we will do it one day. I don’t know when. No one does. But one day. I will get to cook some delicious meals this week with all the amazing food I just bought. I am blogging again. I am home, safe inside. I video chatted with several friends this weekend, and will catch up with another friend tonight. I watched two fantastic limited series on Netflix this weekend: Unorthodox and Self Made. And I read a good part of a book.

Life goes on. We adapt to this new normal, one day at a time. And I pray for the health and safety for not only those near and dear to me, but for the world.

Until next time…

Dayna