Some priorities don’t wear off – 

March 17, 2020 – And then the Zoom meeting request came from my boss. For those who don’t know, Zoom is essentially a group FaceTime, albeit a little more corporate and complicated to set up. The concept of marinating in my T-shirts and creating a dent in my bed could no longer exist if I were to talk face-to-face with my superior. I couldn’t allow my boss to see me in my true, disheveled Castaway form, the freedom of loneliness slowly wearing away at my wardrobe and my mind. I knew the dress code for Zoom was more relaxed than, say, the office dress code. I didn’t necessarily have to change out of my sweatpants, or even wear pants at all. Zoom is usually filmed from the waist up, meaning I could put on a nice shirt and call it a day.

Nonetheless, despite the simplicity of getting dressed from the waist up, the mere thought of getting out of my isolated routine of nothingness and venturing out of my comfortable (yet grim) pit made me frustrated. “Let me quarantine in peace!” was my first reaction. Let me slowly disintegrate into the fibers of my sweatpants and lazily write whatever I needed to write to check it off my list. Then I can go back to watching Contagion on loop and further K-hole into Wikipedia-ing Nostradamus. I had truly never been so unproductive, and so negative. I began to think it was my wardrobe, simultaneously swaddling and suffocating me, slowly taking over my life.


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