Maya Beals | On 20, Apr 2020

“Coronavirus has just now moved up to having a total of 37,820 deaths and 165,659 recovered globally. We’re encouraging that everyone stay inside and follow the instructions on the quarantine to help decrease the upward trend in some of these numbers.”

Man oh man, boy oh boy, am I getting sick and tired of talking and hearing about this virus! I wish my parents would just shut the news off for once and watch a movie like normal people. Every time I step foot out of my room, they have the news channels on back to back, itching for updates on what’s going on.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s important to be very well informed at a time like this, but trust me that after a while there’s a such thing as being too informed. All of this information they’re dying to be so up to date on is just feeding their paranoia and making my living with them even more unbearable at a time like this.

I think it’s day 14 of the nationwide quarantine and things are not looking pretty. Numbers just keep increasing, whether it’s deaths, those who have recovered, or those just now being diagnosed. I wish I could go back to a simpler time, like the time my family and I went to Paris, then Italy, then Rome, and then Greece, and on the way back home we somehow made a stop in Bora Bora. Don’t ask me how we went from Paris to Bora Bora–it amazes me everytime I think about it. 

I’ve just recently turned off my Google Classroom notifications because that’s the kind of negativity I don’t need in my life right now on top of everything else.

I’ve also started going to sleep at 5 in the morning now since I have nothing better to do than watch YouTube makeup tutorials, wig installations, and binge watch almost everything on Netflix and Hulu. Just last week I finished all 17 seasons of “Keeping Up With The Kardashians.” Yes, all 17.

But for some reason I find myself constantly thinking of my trip from last year, or how I like to remember it, my “World Tour.” I think my mind is trying to get me to focus on the bigger and better things than this quarantine right now, but I’m somehow getting more and more depressed as I remember how good that well-cooked steak frites I had in Paris was, with a side of specially made mashed potatoes and extra asparagus. 

“Mom, do you think the men in Paris will appreciate this long sleeve striped shirt I just got from Forever 21?” My sister is probably more excited about this trip than anyone else. She spent 600 dollars on clothes today and I haven’t seen her with that many shopping bags since her first boyfriend dumped her in the 11th grade and started dating her best friend.

“Sweetie, don’t you think you’re overdoing it just a little?” Mom asks, almost getting her eyes stuck in the back of her head from rolling them at the sight of all Leah’s bags.

“Oh please! I don’t think I’ve done enough actually.” After constant family arguments and excessive packing, it’s finally time to board the plane.

I sleep the whole seven hours trying to avoid having an anxiety attack because I have the worst fear of heights. Although I do really regret sleeping past, as I call it, “snack time.” Ugh! I just love those little pretzels and that tiny cup of soda they offer. I swear, it’s the best part of flying.

We finally land and I swear I just stepped into Heaven. The airport smells great and it’s even cleaner than I imagined. There’s people speaking French at every corner, smiling and greeting us weird, very underdressed foreigners.  My mom grabs my hand with a slight squeeze and lets out a squeal of excitement. 

My family and I head to our hotel and I am nothing but amazed. On the way we ride past the Eiffel Tower and I swear that for a minute, I lost my breath. I am too in shock to take any pictures or capture a video before we ride completely past it. My mom and sister are practically falling out of the car’s windows to get a good angle. I bet my sister is going to caption it on Instagram, “Bet you bums haven’t been to Paris before!” with a yawning emoji and a heart.

We finally get out of our car and before heading inside the hotel we all stand on the street curb for a minute just taking in all the scenery around us. That moment will never be recreated, ever. We settle in and decide to go boutique hopping and grab a snack before dinner.

We end up at a crepe place, the kind where they make the crepes right in front of you. I, of course, get one with a whole bunch of strawberries and whipped cream. My mom and sister follow in my footsteps because I am the blueprint. I take my quick Insta Story picture and dig in.

I can almost taste it now. It’s warm filling, with a sweet but savory after taste. The way it melts on my tongue… 

“Maya! Wake up. It’s 2 o’clock in the afternoon and the news is on, you need to see this. They have more intel on the Coronavirus!”

And just like that, we’re back to reality and my sucky life with this damn pandemic. Boy, do I love dreaming, and boy do I hate being woken up in the middle of a great dream!