STAGE 2: Nesting

Bust out the vacuum and the antibacterial wipes, water your wilting ferns, and finally experiment with a little feng shui! Why the heck not? Home is where the heart is, no? Release your inner Marie Kondo to “Our House,” by Madness!

STAGE 3: Productivity

You’ve finally realized that painting isn’t your thing, yoga’s a bore, and you’re a terrible juggler. Why not learn to cook? Catch up on some reading? Alphabetize your vintage-laser-disc collection? All the while skipping to “Ahmad’s Waltz,” by Ahmad Jamal!

STAGE 4: Virtual connection

You’ve now been reduced to having online cocktails every night with your friends, like a special episode of The Brady Bunch, if The Brady Bunch were set in hell. Not exactly a major rager at the corner dive bar, but you gotta do what you gotta do! Blow off a little steam with “Drunk Girls,” by LCD Soundsystem.

STAGE 5: Online learning

Is your house turning into Welcome Back, Kotter on Zoom? At least my kids have a high-school dropout for a father. They’d never risk their college careers by asking me for help. Slam the laptop shut, and crank “School’s Out,” by Alice Cooper.

STAGE 6: Intimacy

Are you fortunate enough to be confined with a loved one? Dim the lights, and ride out this love apocalypse with the soothing sounds of “Moments in Love,” by Art of Noise. Face masks recommended, because WWFD? (What Would Fauci Do?)

STAGE 7: Claustrophobia

Much like my wombat friend down under, you have now carved a figure eight on your living-room carpet from being boxed-in for weeks. At least astronauts have a killer view! “Bullet With Butterfly Wings,” by the Smashing Pumpkins, says it all.

STAGE 8: Panic

Shit’s getting weird. You haven’t looked in a mirror in days, you’re wearing holes in your Lululemons, and you’re starting to believe in UFOs from clocking too many hours on YouTube. You might as well put on “Linus and Lucy,” by the Vince Guaraldi Trio, make gingerbread cookies, and wait for the aliens. Merry Christmas!

STAGE 9: Insanity

It’s official. You’re going nuts. You’re down to one bottle of coconut vodka, you’ve memorized all of Cards Against Humanity, and Anderson Cooper is showing up in your dreams. “Crazy,” by Patsy Cline, never sounded better.

Stage 10: Hope

Perhaps the most important part of this peculiar process. I hope that someday soon we can all step outside and share some music together. Sing along to “Here Comes the Sun,” by the Beatles, and I know you’ll feel a little better.

In the meantime, go wash your fucking hands.