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I Became Homeless During The Pandemic
It was March 15th.
It started like most days since COVID-19 had been announced. It wasn’t normal, but it was becoming “normal”.
I refreshed the news feed on my phone and prepared for the day. This meant making sure I had my hair tied back, refilling my personal sanitizer spray, anxiously awaiting the arrival of antibacterial soap (if Amazon had any in stock today), and being careful about who and how I interacted socially. It still hadn’t completely hit me that this virus was changing the world as we knew it, step by step, case by case. Heck, I even went out to eat lunch with someone, in public, fearing not for much as I sat facemaskless at a table tucked away in the corner of my favorite Mexican restaurant. The sun was shining, it happened to be a warm Spring day and I remember running my fingers through the wind with my window rolled down. ‘Man, what a great day’, I thought to myself.
The call that changed it all
It was just about 2:00 PM when my phone buzzed. I had stopped putting it on silent recently in case anyone needed to reach me for an emergency or about the current “flu”. This was that kind of emergency.
“Natali? NATALI?!” my husband screamed my name.
