Will the world implode because I wasn’t watching, or will I implode because I don’t know the world is imploding?

In my house, I’m the tolling bell. If something happened, particularly something bad, I’m the one who keeps my family in the know.

These days, unfortunately, have been a busy time for my morbid services, and too often I find myself saying, “Oy, Moish, you know who died?”

My husband doesn’t want to be kept updated about everything. But the 24-hour news cycle was created with me in mind, the consumer who wants to hear about each minute update, each new analysis, no matter how far-fetched it might be. And in today’s COVID-19 news frenzy, I’m working overtime.

The only time I stop is Shabbos, which is nice, I’ll admit, but the moment Shabbos is out, I’m refreshing my News Feed on Apple, checking The Yeshiva World, and Vos Iz Neias (updates from Israel, maybe). I check Drudge Report, the Atlantic and New York Times, Yahoo News, everything and anything I can get my hands on.

And guess what? It’s not good for me. Not just me, anyone. The constant click to refresh, and read about more tragedy, more guidelines, more speculation — it eats at the nervous system. I can’t sleep these days. I’m in bed, I feel fine, but sleep doesn’t come. And what do I do when I can’t sleep? Flip? Flip through my phone and read more news articles. I often don’t even read the articles; the headlines and subtitles are enough.

This LifeLab is about what happens when I quit the news rat race for a week. Will the world implode because I wasn’t watching, or will I implode because I don’t know the world is imploding?

Basic rules: I can’t access the current news, read news-related articles, or listen to the radio or podcasts, etc. Nor can people tell me the news.

How It Went Down

I woke up the first day and hit my first snag fairly quickly. Coffee is life (at least in the morning it is) and it usually comes along with my browsing the day’s news. Newspapers are old school, but I’m very serious about reading my News Feed cover to cover with my morning brew. And I cover a lot of ground in that time.

Now, what? Was I really going to sit there and just drink my coffee?

You’re waiting for me to say I stopped and smelled the proverbial roses, and mindfulness is enriching, yadda, yadda — nope. I drank my coffee too fast and felt like I was missing something.

I opened my computer to check my emails. The Yahoo homepage has a ton of news there. I peeked at the headlines. Only bad news. Shocker.

The day was rough going. I was a bit unmoored. What was going on beyond my four walls? I can’t go out ⸺ at least I should be able to get a glimpse of a world beyond mine. Practically, I didn’t know what to do with myself. I read news articles in those snatches of free moments mothers have between screaming kids, teleconferences, making lunch and snack and snack and snack, between changing dirty diapers and making more snacks. What was I supposed to do now? Breathe?

Later that night, I saw a picture of Kim Jung-un on my husband’s computer screen and wondered: Is he dead, is he not dead?

“Hey, you can’t look,” my husband said. I averted my gaze, but it was too late, really.

“Hillary is running,” my husband piped up.

“What?” I bellowed. “You can’t tell me, but really? Why does this have to happen this week?”

My husband smiled coyly.

“You’re impossible,” I told him. He just laughed.