This has already gotten old. And leaving the house messes up with my head. I woke up anxious, shopped as quickly as possible, and rejoiced after the last bag was put on the dining room table. Beep van. Close and lock door. No monsters.
And again, it's not about getting sick, but the mental climate 'out there.' Not healthy. Paranoia is not healthy.
So to combat the nonsense, I've made a nice, hot dinner. Chicken Puttanesca, Brussels sprouts, seasoned rice, and garlic bread. Food I can cook, comfort our souls, and send us to bed well-fed.
It's always the little things: Just being home. A clean bed. Freshly washed towels. A scented candle burning on the stove after dinner. Hot tea in the morning. Quiet conversations. No drama.
Dinner's ready. Time for the second act.