The Life of a Quarantined New Yorker

A documentation of a students restless days and dreamless nights.

8:50 A.M.

The ringing in the room seemed to never end. I forcefully crawled out of bed and made my way to my phone to shut off the alarm. The bright screen blinded me as I struggled to hit the off button. The screen cast the room into a dark contrast as I took in the time. I had only 10 minutes till class. I sat down at my desk and opened my computer. The screen flared up and I quickly punched in my password and logged into Canvas.

9:00 A.M.

I pressed play on the video our teacher assigned us for class. The anthropology notes played. I watched the video at 1.5X the normal speed. From that point on all I can remember is typing and staring at a screen.

10:00 A.M.

The video was over and I was done with anthropology for the day. I picked up my phone and scrolled through it till my thumb cramped. TikTok became my companion as I waited till my French class commenced. Being on my phone had the uncanny ability to make time slip by. The only indication of the passing time was the brightening of the sky out my bedroom window.

10:30 A.M.

“Bonjour!” echoed through my room as I entered my French Class’ Zoom meeting. My computer loaded and I was met with 12 other faces. Only my teacher seemed able to bring a smile to her face. The lesson dragged on with none of the information staying in my head. It seemed impossible to understand. I watched the clock in the top corner of my computer tick by.

12:10 P.M.

The bite of the cold wind caused my eyes to water. I quickly brushed the tears off my face as I continued running. The only thing I could hear was the sound of my feet against the sidewalk. Even the birds refused to come out. Houses passed by in a blur of color as I pushed myself harder. A hill loomed in the distance as the burn in my legs became all consuming. The air felt like shards of class in my lungs as I reached the hill. The pain was a welcome reprieve from the monotony of quarantine. Finally I made it back to my house where I headed to my basement to begin weight training. I picked up a set of dumbells and began to work. Slowly each of my muscles turned to jelly as I pushed myself to the point of blacking out.

1:35 P.M.

There was no taste to the food that I ate. My body was in a trance. My arms seemed to have a mind of its own as they brought more and more food to my mouth.

“Hey! How was your workout?” my mom asks.

My answer must have been sufficient since she left to return to whatever she was doing. That was the first time I’ve seen her today. My brother and father must be in their rooms working. I’ll see them at dinner.

2:15 P.M.

Steam hung in the air as I wiped the mirror clean. My face stared right back at me as water dripped off my hair. My skin was bright red from the hot water that I spent the last 20 minutes standing in. I locked eyes with myself and stared as the condensation began eating away at the clear path I just made. Soon, the mirror would be covered completely. I left the bathroom and made my way to my room to change. The image of my face was burned into my mind. The hollow look in my eyes should have concerned me, but it seemed right. There wasn’t much happiness in the world right now so why should I expect to be any different?

2:30 P.M.

Double tap and scroll. Double tap and scroll. I made my way through Instagram with no thought. My body acted for me. Instagram grew tiresome so I shuffled to some other app. This continued until it was time for class. My phone seemed to be the key to my sanity and passing time.

3:00 P.M.

“How’s everyone doing? Mentally? Physically? Whats up?” Michele Houston asks.

This was how she opened every class. It’s comforting to know that she genuinely cares about us during this time. Each person had a turn to talk. We shifted focus to the lesson for today. We spent our class time going over resumes and how to improve ours. The class remained simple yet helpful.

“Don’t be afraid to contact me if you need anything. I’m here for you whether it’s for school or personal reasons,” Houston said.

She ends every class this way.

4:05 P.M.

I began reading the article I pulled up on my computer. It was depressing. It was a piece I was using for a research paper. The article consisted of four Native Americans discussing their fight for the remains of their ancestors. I took note after note, falling into a rhythm.

7:00 P.M.

Forks and knives scrapped against plates as I sat with my family for dinner. I don’t remember what I ate. This was the first time I’ve seen my brother or father the whole day. Dinner seemed to fly by with random conversations. Each of us seemed to be grasping at anything to talk about. Once we were done, we cleared the table and quickly put everything away. Nothing distinguished this dinner from the ones we’ve had for the past month and a half.

7:30 P.M.

The sky was completely dark as I began my homework once again. The stars didn’t come out. It seemed that they too were locked away. My other assignments seemed pointless, but I did them regardless. If I was at school, these assignments probably would’ve been done already. But not here at home. Night seemed to be the only time to work.

10:00 P.M.

I shut my computer for the night. My homework was done. It wasn’t my best work but at least I was done. It was too early to go to bed. I opened my phone once again, searching for some sort of entertainment.

12:00 A.M.

I crawled into my bed ready for sleep. My body was already aching from the morning and my mind felt like mush after all the work I did. As I gazed at my ceiling all I could think about was that I was going to repeat this again. The thought was depressing. There would be no surprises tomorrow. There would be nothing new. A sense of calm swept through me as I realized that at least I knew what my future looked like. I rolled over and fell asleep. No dreams found me that night. They never did after I left school.