Day 0: At home with the family

Last year, when I stayed home with the child, I wouldn't have thought that a year later I would be home with the family in voluntary quarantine. Then again, a week ago, I didn't see any of what's happening now coming either.

And what's happening now?

I have no idea. Normally, one plans years ahead, but now I wouldn't even be able to tell you what will happen tomorrow. Every single day is a new shock, a shock that I've only ever seen in movies, but now it's as if I'm one of the characters in this tragedy. 

The world has shut down today.

Countries have closed their borders, people aren't going anywhere, those who can stay home and wait for the virus to pass. We don't see it, but we know it's here. We don't see it, and that's precisely why it's so frightening because it threatens us.

1 month ago, I went to Metro for the first time and bought so much food that I had to call my warehouse manager to come with a van and help me bring the food home. 

Of course, back then everyone laughed at me, asking why I was panicking, saying I always exaggerate everything, and that it was ridiculous to stock up on canned goods in 2020. Even a few days ago, I still got looks from people who, after seeing the piles of dry pasta in the garage, smiled at me, saying the situation wasn't that bad. 

These smiling people are now, of course, frantically running between 2 Aldis and an Auchan, searching among empty shelves for anything that is still available and edible. 

I prepared for this voluntary quarantine because I figured, okay, maybe I'm overreacting, but if I'm wrong, there will be a lot of non-perishable food here, and if there's no problem, there will be a place for these non-perishable foods. There will be somewhere to take 290 cans of preserves, 32 kilos of pasta, and those 20 kilos of flour. 

3 days ago I told Reni to prepare for us to stay home and lock ourselves in. By then, Reni could already see on my face that I was serious about this, and as the situation worsened hour by hour and the news arrived, it dawned on Reni too that we really were going to stay home, and we might as well open the Transylvanian sauerkraut cans.

It's hard for people to fall out of their usual rhythm, and even harder to step out of their comfort zone, or move away from the level that is so comfortable for them. 

This voluntary home quarantine takes us out of our rhythm, out of our comfort zone. It will just be us and each other, and we're not going anywhere, no one can come here, and we won't have minimal contact with other people.

Last night Orbán announced the school closure, and that was the point when I told Reni that we'd start tomorrow. From tomorrow, we're staying home.

Reni said okay and canceled all her meetings. I didn't, only because I had already done so days ago.

In the garage, we have enough food for 197 days. We can bake bread at home, we have water, the child has diapers, and Reni and I are here for him, so he has everything he needs. Reni is concerned about fruits and fresh vegetables, I say no problem, I stocked the freezer with frozen vegetables and fruits, and for the rest, there's the Immune Vitamin; I brought home 10 boxes of that too. 

We also worked out a system because with a 2-year-old in their defiant phase, this also needs to be planned.

Every morning, we go to parks or nearby forests for a walk, depending on where there are no people. The child goes to sleep at noon and usually sleeps for 3 hours, then when he wakes up, one day I, the other day Reni takes the child out for some fresh air because the child is incredibly active and needs to get out; if he stays home, he'll tear the house down. Whoever took the child out in the afternoon, the other one does the evening routine, which means bathing, a huge fuss over turning off the story, and putting him to bed.

A few days ago, I bought a bunch of board games, we have Netflix, and of course, our awesome Ncore torrent, which we obviously don't use, I'm just saying we have it. We'll be fine. 

I arranged everything at the company. I sent everyone who could work from home to do so and forbade everyone from traveling abroad. I told them that anyone who leaves the country should consider themselves no longer working for me. Of course, this excludes logistics and the packaging girls. They are working now in rubber gloves, masks, and I'm checking if there's any disinfectant spray we can use to spray the packages. Package delivery is currently unhindered, all packages are sent out within 2 days.

There's a new system in the shop too; only one customer can be in the store at a time. If two customers come at once, one has to wait outside until the other is done.

Before we retreated, we went up to the  top of the hill near us and watched the sunset. I vowed then that when all this crap is over, we'll watch the sunrise too. 

Until then, we're staying home.