Going crazy in quarantine

Pete and I are in the middle of painting our dining room and kitchen floors, which means everyone has to be quarantined to the living room.



The dining room/kitchen has been sealed off, and in order to get anything from those rooms—food, paper towels, a drink—you have to go out the front door, walk around the house, and enter through the sliding doors, providing that particular layer of paint is dry.



And if you need anything from upstairs–our bedroom suite—the same thing applies. All of our stuff from the dining room/kitchen has been shoved into our living room, including my drawing desk, the huge Magic Chef 1000 stove, and other assorted goodies.



So not only are Pete and I stuck in the living room, but we're crammed in there with a bunch of stuff that we're tripping over AND all four animals are also trapped underfoot with us. At night, Pete and I have to crowd into a twin-size spare bed to sleep (or he sleeps on the couch and I take the bed), and of course the animals all pile in there with us, making it extra cozy (i.e., crowded).



One day of this? Not a problem, I can handle it. But six days of this? I am going insane. We sealed off the rooms on Saturday night, and the final coat of sealer won't be dry enough to release the hounds (and cats) on until Friday. I can sorta understand how someone in a small prison cell must feel. I hate my house being turned upside down, dirty from construction, cluttered from renovating, and stinking of paint fumes. I know it's for a good cause, but I don't think I can stand much more of this.



Yeah—that's our mini vintage Frigidaire fridge in our living room, which you have to walk around to get to the couches.



The cats seem confused and restless, and are constantly getting into it with the dogs. That's my drawing desk that Miss Dollie is sitting on, which has been shoved behind one of the couches. And that's the Magic Chef in the background, which is an enormous stove, but much more so when it's sharing a tiny space with three couches, a fridge, a table, a tv, two people, two dogs, and two cats. Ugh.



The dogs are absolutely bored out of their skulls, as I am. They stare longingly outside all day, wishing they could be anywhere else. And the bummer of it all?



Pete's car is still broken down, so he's been taking my beloved CR-V to work every day. We have him take the car, because otherwise I have to drive to and from his work twice a day, wasting gas and adding miles to my car. So I'm trapped at home in the living room, AND I can't go anywhere besides walking around my neighborhood. And it's been raining like crazy around here this past week, so daily walks have been out of the question.

Hopefully this will be worth all the discomfort, although I'm panicking because we are hosting a Father's Day party on Sunday and I haven't been able to clean the house. Either I can't access certain parts of it, or we're all stuck in one spot and things just will get messed up again. So I'll be doing a marathon cleaning session Friday–Saturday, with a final move of the furniture on Sunday morning, just to be sure the paint is dry. Sigh....