Are we almost done?

It's not even been a week of quarantine--and while it isn't much different than my daily life--I'm about over it. Yes, I'm whining--while quarantined at a resort in a three-bedroom suite that's almost as large as my house.

I spend the morning drinking coffee and reading my complimentary USA Today--which I've been notified will no longer be delivered to my door--on the back balcony overlooking the golf course. I spend the rest of the day on the balcony working. Might as well since the other options are coloring, television, reading, puzzling, or eating.

The only humans we see besides the occasional golfers are men. We have a group in the building next to us. They come out on the balcony for smoke breaks and are here for the golf. I know because I asked them.

I was desperate for a conversation with other people.

The other neighbors are two men next to us but one floor below. I rarely spot the one who wears a large brimmed sun hat, but his companion is outside daily and is always on the phone. He uses the speaker function 24/7, and I know everything there is to know about him, including his banking information.

That's a joke.

He drags his lounge chair off his balcony and sits alongside the giant sandtrap to sunbathe. And talk. Only once did golfers chide him. His response was to move his lounger on to the cart path. He was a rebel.

The kids exercise by running the parking lot and up and down our building's stairs. Each day the parking lot has lost cars as one by one people leave. We stayed because...four different walls. Then we stayed because we knew we were secure and germ-free. At home, my husband is working, and not really taking this whole thing very seriously.

Me: "When we get back, you're going to need to strip at the front door and shower while we wash your clothes."

Tom: "I think we have a bad connection. Can you see if you can maybe stay another week?"

My friend left early. She's in the healthcare field, has a senior in high school, and a son who was to get married in three weeks and who called off his wedding a few days ago. She was panicking and going home relaxed her.

Darcy's boyfriend lives in an apartment and has only a bike for transportation. I reminded Darcy that once we drop him off, that's it. I couldn't in good conscience leave him, so we're bringing him back with us. We've had multiple discussions on how to work it all out with one teacher teaching virtually, two college students learning virtually, one writer, and a dog.

We've mapped out desks and spaces and agreed we all need our own time alone. I shall be the mediator if times get tough. God knows, how long this will last. We aren't even at a week yet.

I'm going to miss my balcony.