I’m soon to be a published author. It was hard keeping it a secret for so long, but in the past two years, during the pandemic, I was working with a literary agent to get my book proposal ready and out there. Post Hill Press, an indie distributed by Simon & Schuster, is publishing my book on Memorial Day next year…it’s also my seventh wedding anniversary (not my choice, my editor’s, but it’s perfect—I’ve always viewed my dad’s list as a wedding present).

So I suppose we are living in some weird in-between time now, where the pandemic isn’t yet past but also isn’t never-endingly present.

How are you all getting through it?

Except for last weekend, when Steven and I camped out on the Appalachian Trail (so far we’ve covered eight of the 115 miles I hope to cover, spanning New York and New Jersey—the first item on MY bucket list!), I’ve been working a lot. Like A LOT a lot. Writing, copyediting (I have 11 jobs now, four last week alone), Ironman training (my first practice race is in July, at Litchfield Hills—an Olympic distance—and my 70.3 is in Atlantic City September 12! You can go here to help my cause! And yes, this is a list item—it’s “own a $200 suit!”)…

This is all a long-winded way of saying I’m sorry I haven’t posted in a while. I’ve been busy.

But I realized I still haven’t posted links to those podcasts I did in the winter and spring. It was weird, all of a sudden all these people wanted to talk to me! I loved it, mostly because Steven and I didn’t leave the house for 14 months—he has severe asthma, so was high-risk. Of course now all these articles keep coming out about how if you’re vegan, like we are, you reduce your risk by 75%, or about how if you run, like we do, this reduces risk greatly—and then the CDC just started saying how low the risk is when you’re outdoors. NOW you tell me….

Thanks to the lockdown, I couldn’t see even my own mother in person for a very, very long time and that was very, very hard. So making nine new friends sounded like a great idea!

Here’s the list!

Been busy around here lately.

I promise this isn’t just me putting off my book proposal. I did make great strides with that two weeks ago. It’s taken longer than I hoped to put this together, I think because the pandemic has turned everything upside down. I went through a few months where I was glued to my computer and phone, checking on the latest news and numbers every morning…and sometimes late into the night. This gradual observing created a gradually worsening level of anxiety in me…not just about our current situation. My dad’s list has given me quite a comfort level with uncertainty. It’s helped me to understand that everything is always uncertain, no matter what’s going on. But rather, it made me start to absorb the general public’s unease….and made me anxious my story wasn’t big enough to help anyone any longer.

Feeling honored today to be featured on the main page of Baristanet, my town’s local website. You can go here to read it: baristanet.com.

This came about because of my husband’s #EverySingleStreet project. Some of you may know that Steven was a runner before I was…and then around the time I had to get surgery for my injured toe (see https://www.myfatherslist.com/blog/2020/4/17/on-patience), he got REALLY into running. I’m so glad that he did. For a while there, I thought of running as something I did alone. It was my therapy before doing this project and writing this book was.

I was scrolling through my old Instagram photos tonight and stumbled upon this one and started crying.

Not because this run was recorded in a park, a place no longer open to New Jersey runners during the pandemic.

I cried because of the time it lists.

Twenty-four minutes.

***

The activity at the top might say “walk,” but I was trying to run that day. This was recorded three months after my foot surgery.

I remember being slightly embarrassed to post it. For several years before this, I usually posted 10- to 11-minute miles.

I also remember being scared. When I got back on that course again, I didn’t know what might happen. But my physical therapist told me I had to make myself walk, particularly on grass, if I wanted my toe to cooperate again.

My last post was for those of us with lives that have taken a swift detour.

Of course, we all know this is the better of two situations.

Many people might even feel they prefer life this way, under pandemic rules.

The misanthropes out there don’t have to deal with people, nor do the socially phobic; those who lacked free time before now have it up the wazoo; we’re connecting with our families more and each other—phone companies have found an increase in voice calls unlike anything they’ve seen in years.

A lot of us are also experiencing a slow-down of life that makes us happier. We’re getting a break from the busyness and maybe seeing it never had to be that way at all. Maybe we were doing things the hard way before and not the smart way, because we never took a moment to think about it.

Most of our delays are beginning to feel like opportunities. Chances to think through our next moves.

***

But what about the small percentage of us experiencing the worst of this?

As of today, 95,000 people have died worldwide. In the United States, 16,000 have died, nearly half of them in New York.

Most of of us in the New York area know someone who has or has had coronavirus. Some of us know someone who’s died from it. Some of us know someone who’s dying right now.

Under normal circumstances, I’d be preparing to head into the city right now to work at People magazine, my copyediting job on Monday nights. It’s usually quite frenetic, as these jobs go when a magazine needs to go to press the next day—People is a weekly.

But since the coronavirus outbreak, we all have to work from home. My ancient laptop has had some difficulty with that, so I’m attending a webinar to learn how to get my work laptop to show up on my home one. But I’ll never be able to transport my coworkers here, which is a shame after being cooped up inside for 26 days.

***

One night two months ago, as I was walking into the offices in New York’s financial district, a British coworker looked at me and in his usual wry tone said, “Carney, right? You’re ‘the fox’!” I said, “What?” He explained that my Irish surname’s origins stemmed from druid tribes in the old country, and the Carney name came from O’Kearney, and the chieftain of this tribe was called “the fox.”

I don’t know about you guys, but I’m feeling all the feelings lately. And I’m tired as hell.

I turned 42 on Monday. And I couldn’t help noticing the seemingly extra lines around my eyes all day…then I remembered. Coronavirus.

Even if you don’t have the illness and nobody in your family does (and I’m praying every night and still trying to find ways to help those who do and the hospital workers healing them), this experience is taxing and tiring and stressful. For everyone.

So here’s what I resolved to do.

For the remainder of this stay-at-home order (which, as of today, is the case in 37 states), I’ll be posting on my blog at least once a week—if not more. I tried to keep my posting at a minimum for two years…I only shared something if it was a new interview or a photo shoot. And for all of Year Two, I wasn’t even taking those—orders from my previous agent.

My new agent is all for my doing this though, and I like the idea of being of service by chronicling my home-bound experience. I’ve talked to a local newspaper editor about doing a monthly column, too.

Well, what can I say? Only I would hear the word “pandemic” and think, Hmm, this sounds like a perfect time to run for office…so many babies to kiss!

I’m kidding, of course. I’m not running for office—I’m running to be a delegate, though, which is sorta like that.

Item 53 on the list is “Be invited to a political convention.” I sent a video to Elizabeth Warren’s campaign back in September, which seemed like my best bet with this (though believe me, I tried EVERY other avenue…being a reporter, being a volunteer at the Fiserv Forum in Milwaukee. I even tried to cover it for local Milwaukee newspapers! No dice. Like most things with this project, I gotta do the work.

So I was shocked to learn I’d been chosen to be a delegate…and then even more shocked two days later when Warren dropped out.

Luckily it turns out you can run to be a delegate no matter which candidate you support. So I sent in my paperwork, agreeing to do it. Then coronavirus hit.