Thinking about all this time we find ourselves with and I begin to feel like I’m living in a Mary Cassatt painting — always washing, feeding, dressing, rocking, and playing with Eloise. I haven’t left the house in three days, and now I’m starting to forget what day of the week we are even on. Time is sort of blurring together, painfully slow and eerily fast. I knock on my neighbors door to ask if they’ve ventured out while Eloise throws rocks around the echoing foyer. I realized today that there is no break in sight. A French friend texts to say it will 15 days but another claims 45. After Easter it’ll all be normal, but I heard him say August.... for now, I sit and wait.