Despair in Pandemic: We’re all at the same terrible pool party
These days (by which I mean months), I’ve been struggling with simple tasks, like reading and responding to emails. Most days, I wake up in a dulled panic. Each morning I stare at my blank ceiling in the half-dark of my bedroom and think Oh, here, again? Another day? The whir of my sized-too-small-for-my-bedroom AC unit has become the lifeless soundtrack setting the tone for the rest of the day, and every day forward: hot, endless, and plunging me deeper into despair.
I miss the electricity of anticipation — the secret joy that built up from waiting to see another play, or ballet, or concert. I miss sitting in a dark corner of a movie theater, alone with a large popcorn, Cherry Coke, and box of Milk Duds that I plan to eat in their entirety.
I miss trivia nights with my team that had just started a winning streak. I miss volunteering and teaching face-to-face. I miss my colleagues who would talk to me for 20 minutes about their cat’s latest medication regimen.
I miss happy hours. I miss bars. I really miss bars. Especially the true dive bars, with sticky tables and a 50/50 chance of a coat hook under the bar, and that brief connection you make with a stranger as a bartender finally remembers what you’ve been drinking now that you’re on your fourth whiskey with a splash of ginger ale.
My preferred ratio of alcohol to alcohol.
But I’m sure you, like me, are tired of hearing how tired we all are. It’s like we all spent our Saturday at the same terrible pool party and all we have in common anymore is talking about how terrible the pool party was. Shawn got a nosebleed in the water and we all got food poisoning from Carol’s potato salad. Remember that? Yes. We all remember.
So what is left to look forward to?
Well, I haven’t published anything since March, but now you get this masterpiece of a newsletter to look forward to. I’ve also been contemplating getting a tattoo, so I’m going to cling to that maybe-future where I’m a much more adventurous person.
Oh, and I learned I am mildly allergic to a plant known as sweet fern, which is not actually a fern, but is my first allergy!
I suppose there’s also pumpkin spice lattes.
For entertainment recommendations and updates, sign up for my free, monthly email list!
