At the end of March, my life changed practically overnight; I found myself leaving the city, moving back in with my mom, and being furloughed from my job.
Before this all happened, I was quarantining in my apartment, which came with its own set of challenges: as the city shut down, my space became a 24/7 office, restaurant, and gym in one. I had a demanding job in social media that kept me glued to my phone, and I felt guilty anytime I was working from home, and well, not working.
As a result, I struggled to delineate the exact boundaries of my time working and time spent doing everything else. On top of that, I felt immense pressure from social media to be “thriving” in quarantine: I had to excel at work, get into the best shape of my life, master all these new skills, and go on tons of Zoom dates. Even though the city was on PAUSE, our lives had to be accelerating at warp speed, as if nothing had changed?
Yes, it was as insane as it sounds.
Through many venting sessions with friends, I realized I wasn’t alone: establishing that “perfect” WFH balance was a fantasy, and it was going to take a few months to acclimate to this new way of living.
This more realistic perspective definitely lifted a huge weight off my shoulders. It’s now been 2 months since I was officially furloughed, and while I’m still #unemployed, I’m taking the pressure off myself to find a new job, become fluent again in French, get that six-pack, etc.
I’m doing my quarantine on my own terms, giving myself a break, and most of all, practicing gratitude for all the amazing things I have: my family, my health, a safe place to quarantine. Jobs come and go, but what I do have is truly irreplaceable.