A year ago… “Our Reality Broke,” as the New York Times put it. COVID was officially labeled a pandemic and by March 16th, we were in “lockdown,” in LA. If you’re interested, there’s a full timeline of COVID events, here.
I don’t know about you, but I feel like my new reality is breaking, now. My ability to put one foot in front of the other is challenged. Literally – I sprained my ankle last week – and figuratively. I’m coming to the very end of my coping rope. It’s not endless, but when does it end? Is this okay to do? Is that? And, I wonder, will the new reopening raise expectations of us? We’ll have to commute to work and then work. We won’t have unlimited access to the fridge, the stove, laundry or for that matter, the couch and the TV. And, now I’m panicking, how am I ever going to finish the Scandal series I’m bingeing? And as a side note, even though I’m a mask-fanatic in real life, I hate seeing masks in storylines on TV. (Hey, TV, you’re supposed to be escapist!)
But, everything is fine.
Right? I didn’t get COVID. I’m not yet eligible for the vaccine in California. All my siblings – in other states – are vaccinated. They’re getting their hair cut, visiting my 91 year-old Mom (also vaccinated), eating together without masks, in outdoor cafes. But I’m fine. I’m fine. I talk myself down. I’m registered at California’s myturn.ca.gov, and I’ll get my vaccine soon. And look, I’m fine. There was a young woman on the news who died 5 weeks before she would have gotten the vaccine, but she’s not me, and I’m fine.
I’m still not sick, and that was my top goal for 2020. Don’t get COVID, check.
I could, by rights, celebrate. Coaches ask you to focus on the positive, find the comforting thought, lean in to the good. And, that is my own journey and one of the ways I help my creative clients. But, sometimes, that point of view whitewashes what we also need to feel.
It’s true that my dog has been very ill with a rare bacterial infection, that was first misdiagnosed as stomach problems, peritonitis, and a malformed spine possibly from being kicked as a puppy. We had months on and off of a howling, shrieking dog and thousands of dollars in unexpected vet care.
It’s also true that we had to get our house tented for termites – which we delayed bec dear dog was too sick (and too loud) to be in a hotel for a weekend. And it’s also true that they missed the scheduled untenting by a day. We drove home with dog and detritus in the car, and sat in the backyard calling them every couple of hours, and driving to Target to go to the bathroom.
I scolded some poor phone answerer to make it clear that no one had called us back STILL. I’m not a phone yeller. I am firm and insistent, but really? As soon as I hung up I whined to my husband: “I haven’t even told them how hard this day has been, with diarrhea.”
“Don’t worry, honey, you will.”
Not to complain, but before all that, my computer crashed. I had to make everything work on a tablet, kindle and cell phone. That’s not quite the same as two cans and a string, but still, I felt like MacGyver. It’s back now from Best Buy, and it still makes the noise of helicopter landing about 12″ from my face, on my desk in the living room. I’ll figure out next steps another day.
We don’t have heat, bec SoCal gas wouldn’t turn the heater back on after the termite treatment, bec it wasn’t installed up to code. The HVAC people didn’t return my calls this week either. And this week has been in the 40’s (which is below zero in California-degrees) and there was rain and even hail. I can put on a sweater. I’m fine.
Do I have other complaints? Yes! Daylight Savings Time is stealing an hour. This doesn’t piss me off the way it does some people, but in case you’re one of them, I add this complaint to fuel your sense of outrage.
And my husband’s last day of work – after 26 years with DC Comics – was February 19th. And, now, he wants me to help him do his website. I can drag my ass through a WordPress template, but do I want to? It’ll be fine.
I’m uneasy. Are you?
Everything is changing again. But not soon. There are no clear lines. I can’t plan for the day I can book a flight, finally, and visit my mother, my Mother-in-law, NYC, or for that matter, Paris. I don’t know when my oldest daughter who lives across town will feel safe to come for a Sunday Dinner.
And maybe bec I’m coping with very little rope left, I’m sick of everything.
I have an acute case of COPID-21.
That strange malaise where you can’t commit to things, can’t attend another Zoom call, feel hope, or finish things. You eat like there’s no tomorrow, and then there is. >scream!<
COPID-21. It’s a thing.
I’m doing a research grant proposal for the Still Closed University, and I’d love your input. Have you, or are you now, suffering from COPID-21? Let’s talk about it this week in the FB Group. (Ask to join, if you haven’t already.)