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I have been working at home since March 9. That is either 10 or 33 weeks. I can’t remember. I lost count when I spilled coffee on my desk calendar.

I know self-isolating is the best thing to do. This is a bad disease, and I don’t want to risk myself or others.

But during this time, questions arise that I’ve never considered before.

I’m inside the house so much my dog is safe-distancing from me. Maybe I should shower more?

My car’s gas tank has been half-full since March 19. Does that mean I’ll need more fuel in July?

I’ve got some great seats for a May 30 baseball game. Since there’s no game, can I go sit in the seats anyway?

Somebody is advertising recycled toilet paper. I may buy some, because all we’ve got left is a brand called Cardboard Comfort.

I attend on-screen meetings constantly. I’ve learned that with proper flashlight placement, I can look like either an aging movie star, or a gerbil.

I used to enjoy watching live baseball games. For the past couple weeks, I’ve tuned to baseball classics from the 1950s, before color TV. It’s hard to decide which gray uniforms I find most attractive.

For now, I content myself with working at home, and staying safe. The commute to the office is very short, and the kitchen is always open.

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