I am all over the place, well in my house, like the bathroom, the living room, the kitchen/dining room, the other bathroom, the powder room (which is technically the other other bathroom). All of a sudden, ‘open-concept’ living is a nightmare. There are only two of us here, but I recall at Christmastime when there were seven people living here that there was nowhere to hide. I can’t imagine what all the open-concept families are doing right now.
Remember when there was an adequate living room, with a wall. Then a dining room, with a wall. Then a family room with a wall. We thought that was a bad idea. Who knew pandemic living would make us yearn for the small, divided spaces of yesteryear? I know you are thinking the same thing I am. How do I go to my separate corner when we took all the dividers and corners away? I mean, I was wondering this for my dear Millennials when they made picnic tables de rigueur (I’m practicing my French!) for office space. What happened to privacy in business? How does one give or take a verbal whoopin’ if everyone is listening? Perhaps verbal whoopins are no longer de rigueur in an office., What do I know, I work from home?
I’m certain I am on to something. Being in the same room with everyone, all the time, which in my case is just one other person, is embarrassing. I mean, how does one quietly open the bag of chocolate chips or even the cupboard to the chocolate chips without hearing: “wacha’ doin’ in there?” How does one make secret phone calls to their mom, sister, grown child, granddaughter, girlfriends, or the liquor store? Okay, I’ll say it, how does one fart for goodness sake, when there is nowhere to hide?
It’s worse than that. It’s the feeling of being watched 24-7. Or being the watcher. Did I hear a cough? Did someone go outside? And a new favorite phrase from everyone’s lips: You’re doing it wrong! You know you’ve thought it a hundred thousand times in the last three weeks, but now you’re actually saying it out loud. Mostly because you don’t know what you’re saying out loud, except for hearing the echo in the lovely open-concept cathedral ceiling room which we all now regret with every fiber of our being.
I have taken the liberty to sit in the privacy of my powder room and come up with a few suggestions:
- Find a flashlight and use it in a laundry room, garage, interior powder room or interior bedroom with the door closed and all lights off to create the appearance of unused space to take care of any private business you may have.
- Embrace the open concept living for you and lock some people outside to play. That’s what my mom and Nana used to do and it seemed effective at the time. Who knows maybe Nana remembered it from 1918-1919 or thereabouts.
- Be open-minded enough to realize that others could be doing it right, or just differently. This is where you may learn new skills.
- Treat every single day as a time and a place for laughter. It’s there, boy oh boy is it. As I’m typing this my electricity went out with a 30-second wind storm that ran through Pennsylvania. See? Pretty sure my Nana is guffawing up there in heaven right now!
Just know, you’re not doing it wrong. None of us are. We have no idea what we’re doing. You’re doing it fine. If you are staying kind, fed, watered, entertained and as sane as possible, you are doing it right. We are all doing it right. Every day. And congratulations for that!
And don’t forget. Please, never forget…
You Just have to Laugh………………and find privacy, lots of privacy.
©2020 Cathy Sikorski
Thanks for the great read as I yet again hunker down in my home office. Speaking of flashlights as “unused space” (ha ha), there IS light at the end of the tunnel. Hope you and readers have a wonderful holiday. Thanks again Cathy for the light-hearted read.
Thank you, Eve and hope you are well!
I have the opposite problem. I live alone in a small studio apartment. I would love to be living in a house with another person for company. LOL!
I’m sure you would. My mom lives alone just a few miles from me. I offered to let her quarantine here, but NOPE she loves her space and wants it to stay that way. She loves her own time and own space. How about that? I guess we all need to keep counting our blessings. Hope you are well, Kathy. Take care and be safe and smart. Happy Easter!
Dear Cathy,
My bratty answer is “It is great to live alone!” It does get a bit lonely but I am use to it and now have a total okay to do what I want with out any issues. I sanitize but not as often as having someone else in and out!
My shock and than reality set in when I looked at the picture above and your kitchen tile made it look like you had a pool off your kitchen. What a great idea for peace that would be for you, as there would be a door to keep moisture out of the house! Looked again, and realized it was an illusion from being on this laptop, too long.
We all will survive and yes I am sad I am not home visiting my family and know there would be a great meal on Sunday. I have not been cooking great things lately.
I do pray a lot that our Mom’s, families and friends do not get this nasty bug. My sinuses hate me enough in this season. Helps as I sleep a lot more!
Take care my friend and Blessed Easter. Hard to believe we can’t go to church!
Stay well and hug all. I really need those glasses on now!
Love Beth Ann
Oh there aren’t any others! I am trying to append my first comment and they didn’t let me??
Cath,
Bratty answer; Great to live alone! Optical illusion was your kitchen tile looked like a pool off your kitchen. Would have been a room to keep the moisture out of the house! I have been on this laptop , too long.
Am sad I am not home for holiday and miss all. Pray our Mom’s, families and friends do not get sick. Have some good food on Easter!
Love and Hugs,
Beth Ann
I got both your comments! I love you, Bethy. This is not my house! It’s a stock photo. You KNOW I wish I had a pool. You’d be the first to know. All is well, and yes, praying every day that we all stay that way. Also, can’t believe it feels weird NOT go to church! Happy Easter dear friend, take better care of yourself. Love you, Cathy