Coping With Cabin Fever
I’ve had a lot of freedom in my life. I’ve traveled wherever my heart has desired near or far. I’ve gotten in car and just driven until everything I’ve known is but a distant dot in my rear view mirror. I’ve (literally and unfortunately) gotten lost in a Costa Rican rainforest. I’ve slept under the stars, in a dumpster (for science!), in a yurt, and even on a boat. I’m the Dr. Seuss of adventure.
I’m a free spirit, meant to roam this Earth.
When the pandemic started I knew it would be tough. I knew the brakes on all travel, even to the grocery store, would be severely limited. I wanted to, and still want to, do my part by practicing social distancing.
I am staying six-feet and more from everyone and most things I know and care about. Last week as I sat in my home office dressed in a bathing suit, a top knot bun, yoga pants, and body glitter, I realized — I may be experiencing a bit of the ol’ cabin fever.
“Cabin fever is a distressing claustrophobic irritability or restlessness experienced when a person is stuck at an isolated location or confined quarters for an extended period of time.” — Wikipedia
