Lisa Scottoline: Lisa Quarantine

My new vacuum cleaner is arriving today.

And I couldn’t be more excited.

Who am I?

I can’t be Lisa Scottoline.

I must be Lisa Quarantine.

(Rhymes with fettuccine.)

Let me explain.

But first, we know this is a dreadful time, and hardly a laughing matter. Lives are being lost every day, and so are livelihoods. But my job is to make you smile, and I’m reporting for duty.

I’m staying at home, not going anywhere, and nowadays that is called patriotic instead of lazy.

I’ll take it.

I’m not the first to observe that far braver Americans than I am have reported for duty with a gun.

All I have is a cup of tea.

So I’m not complaining about staying at home to slow the spread of the virus.

First, I’m alive.

Second, no one is asking me to save anyone’s life by intubating them without a mask.

In other words, it’s easy to stay home when so many doctors, nurses, hospital staff, and others are doing so much more.

Being heroes, day and night.

Also, staying inside was pretty much my life before. As a writer, my job is to sit in front of the computer and never get up.

But these days I find a new personality emerging, namely, Lisa Quarantine.

The difference between Lisa Scottoline and Lisa Quarantine is that Lisa Quarantine sits in front of the computer like Lisa Scottoline, except she gets no work done. She stares at the computer, but instead of making her word count, she scrolls the internet, scaring herself with articles about the coronavirus.

At some point I finally give up and start doing things I never would have done before, back when I was my usual self.

Or rather, Lisa Quarantine does.

For example, yesterday, Lisa Quarantine made tomato soup from scratch.

Who is she?

I’ve never done that before.

Here’s how I normally make tomato soup:

I open a can.

In fact, the last time I even ate tomato soup was in fourth grade. But yesterday, I made it from scratch and it smelled like Cynwyd Elementary and I ate a whole potful myself.

And just a minute ago, I caught myself skimming through my cookbooks to figure out a way to bake bread.

Me?

I’m paid to write, not bake.

Lisa Scottoline had her priorities in order, but Lisa Quarantine is learning to churn butter.

Which brings me to the vacuum cleaner.

Heretofore, nothing brought me to the vacuum cleaner.

I’m going to tell you right now that I have cleaning people who clean my house twice a month. That’s because, as I mentioned above, the only way I earn money is to write words. By the way, I’m a small business. The name of my business is Smart Blonde, though I’m neither smart nor blonde.

And also, even if it made no economic sense, I would pay somebody my last dollar to clean my house because I hate cleaning.

But now I’m on my own. The cleaning people are fellow patriots, and my house is filling up with dog hair.

So I sprang into action.

First I had to find the vacuum cleaner, and when I finally found it, somewhere in the basement, it barely rattled to life. I vacuumed the family room and the kitchen, because those are the rooms we’re using the most and I’ll be damned if I’ll do the whole house.

I might feel differently in May.

But I might not. I might let the dog hair get as tall as corn before I vacuum my bedroom.

Denial has its uses.

But there was a problem with my vacuum cleaner.

It sucked.

Or didn’t, literally.

It’s older than I am, and after I vacuumed, there was still tons of dog hair, so I went online and ordered a new vacuum cleaner that came with free pet hair attachments.

Perfect.

Because pet hair is attached to me.

So my new vacuum cleaner is coming today.

And Lisa Quarantine is standing in the driveway, waiting for the UPS truck.

And she has on her rubber gloves because she will accept delivery of the package at a distance, then bring it into the house and wipe down the box before she opens it, then wipe down the vacuum cleaner and its attachments before she uses them, and by the time she’s done doing the tasks that will save her own life, she will vacuum as a reward.

Happily.

Who is this woman?

I’m not sure, but she’s here for the duration.

Look for Lisa and Francesca’s humor collection, “I See Life Through Rosé-Colored Glasses,” and Lisa’s novel, “Someone Knows,” in stores now. Also you can preorder Francesca’s debut novel, “Ghosts of Harvard,” publishing May 5.