Earlier in pandemic, we bought a treadmill. Even in the nice weather, one of us uses it most days, and when the weather is uncooperative, it gets used multiple times each day.
Each week, I have a handful of Zooms, and I participate in most of them while walking on the treadmill. (If I’m going to need to be taking notes, I don’t walk, because walking and typing is not yet in my multi-tasking skill set.)
“I wish we had a treadmill. We don’t have space for it,” a Zoomer said to me.
Neither did we. We got rid of a couch, moved the papasan to another room, and then there was space for it.
This ties in with so many different areas of life with the same theme: you have to decide it’s important, then you have to make space for it.
Space and time and emotional energy and money are all finite. It’s somewhere between inconvenient and really difficult to sort out “would be nice”s from priorities and act accordingly.
Where are people going to sit when they come over? There’s a pandemic, and we’re taking precautions seriously. We’re not having people over inside the house. My physical health (and, by extension, mental health) is substantially more important than seating for imaginary guests. The last global pandemic lasted two years; I’ll assume this one is the same, plan accordingly, and be pleasantly surprised if I’m wrong.