Diary of Cindy Mediavilla, between March 16, 2020 to May 1, 2020

              The New Normal: Surviving COVID-19


Los Angeles Public Library (LAPL) is closed for the foreseeable future, as are Disneyland, school
districts, gyms, and movie theaters. All sporting events have been canceled and restaurants are
required to serve takeout and delivery only.


The world is going crazy and the only way I can cope is by keeping a journal until coronavirus is
gone or at least better managed. Today (March 16) is my first entry.


March 16

Woke up this morning worried that we wouldn’t be able to buy catfood if pet stores were
suddenly declared “non-essential,” so Tim went to PetSmart as soon as it opened and bought
20 lbs. of Science Diet kibble. We also started our new exercise regimen by walking 2.5 miles to
the market and back. Lines looked to be 45 minutes long, so we came home empty-handed.
I was doing OK with the virus until Friday, when LAPL announced it was closing all facilities.
Libraries never close during times of disaster or mayhem nor should they. Where else can
people be assured that the information they’re getting is accurate and safe? Plus, what about
all the families that don’t have computers or reliable sources of information at home? L.A.
Unified School District estimates that half of its student body does not have access to a home
computer. What will they do without the library? While I understand the practical need to
minimize exposure to coronavirus by closing public buildings, my heart breaks for young
people, in particular, who rely on their local public library.


And closing Disneyland only makes this nightmare seem all that more real. Excellent Los
Angeles Times article today describing how Disneyland helps fans (me) cope with difficult times
by being predictable and safe. Where will we (I) go now to recharge our (my) psyche(s) and feel
normal again? Inconsolable. Doesn’t help that the weather is so gloomy and cold.


March 17

We were greeted by a glorious rainbow this morning when we pulled back the curtains in our
bedroom. And on St. Patrick’s Day, too! No pot of gold. But as I said to myself while taking a
video of the entire rainbow, end-to-end, “This might be a good sign.” Indeed it was, as Tim
found out a half-hour later when he went to the market.


“There are no lines at Pavilions,” he whispered conspiratorially on the phone.


“Is there food on the shelves?” I asked.


“No onions, but lots of other stuff,” he responded.