Well, it only took me seven days to utterly lose my shit. I silently cried for about an hour today while simultaneously working, because of course. I feel a little bad that I freaked out the nephews, but damnit I’m human.
If you’re wondering, it seems as though I lost my shit over paprika. We’re out of it, and Cade thinks it’s a necessity we must immediately run to Target to get. He’s not doing well with quarantine and wants to go out at any opportunity. In fact, when he calls in to see if he has to go in for random drug testing (as mandated by the court) he’s bummed when they tell him not to report today.
So when he was bugging me about getting out of the house and getting paprika so he could make deviled eggs, I lost it. I cried for an hour and then explained to him how even though he doesn’t care if he gets the virus, I care if he does, and I especially care if I get it.
I told him and made sure Maxwell, who is flippant about the virus and still going to hang out with friends at their houses, was listening that if I get it it’s going to be a huge, big deal. That if I don’t work, I don’t get paid. I don’t have the luxury of sick time nor do I think I’ll qualify for unemployment. I tried to express that it’s in all of our best interests that I stay healthy. And if I get sick, it’ll probably be because they exposed me.
I suspect they think I’m being irrational and controlling, but fuck man, I don’t know how to get through to them that they should stay home and away from people.