8:30 a.m. — I wake up and hunt for my phone, which is usually under my pillow or somewhere near my head. I've been displaced for about six weeks due to the coronavirus outbreak. My coworkers and I were told by our school admin to "go where you feel safe." For many teachers that meant an extended holiday elsewhere in Asia. For me, it meant going back to the US and living with my dad on the east coast — I've been here since the end of January. I continue to pay my rent and usual monthly expenses back in China. My fiancé, V., is in his hometown in the south of China, safe, but bored because everything is shut down. Every morning, I wake up to messages and notifications from friends in China because of the 13-hour time difference. I check everything out, keep my eyes peeled for info from school (supposedly we will be back in the building March 31st), and see that I got paid $45 for online tutoring. It's nice, but I haven't been able to take as many classes because I'm in a different time zone. I get out of bed and start getting ready for church.