The longer I wait, the worse it's going to be, so here we go:
I am so un-practiced, what topic do I even write about? I guess I am unsure, but the weather has never treated me better (in the face of a pandemic) and as such, I feel the need to once more be at the keys. Perhaps that's what I will ponder upon (uponder, if you will); the pandemic.
I would like to skip the fiddly bits about the 'Rona that we have all been made well-aware of. If for no other reason than - believe it or not - I am no scientist.
(WHUUUUATTT???)
I know. Shocking.
I AM, however, a human being (I guess) and as such am more than qualified to discuss my very own personal affliction. So here goes.
At first I was afraid; I was petrified. What the hell was a pandemic? I bounced between noxious anxiety and casual dismissal. Because this was, after all, the unknown (gasp!), however, I know how we human-types get when fancy science terms are thrown around; it couldn't be that bad, right? The worst part of this paragraph is that I still really don't know the answer. Well, that and the fact that I started a sentence with the word "Because".
Somewhere my 3rd grade English teacher is shaking her fist. (Sorry, Ms. Cruz, I never deserved you.)
And to add a much-desired dash of excitement to this, our own Armageddon, I was to move into a new apartment building just as the quarantine was starting to take effect.
FUN!
Once we got over that hump, it became quite clear the joy was to spread. Y'know, like a ...what's the word for something that spreads? Ah, yes; butterknife. The marmalade of change was beginning to make its way to the toast that was my professional life. A couple of us were tagged "Essentials" - a term here meaning "people who know no rest" - and were assured of our place in this world. And that place was at our desks. The rest of us who were sent to be paid to work a quarter at home fretted over this and stressed over that (while the original Essentials fretted and stressed over whatever miniscule things had been taken off of their plate). The stay-at-homes - or "Homies" - were not to be sent to a cozy vacation with their loved ones; they were exiled to a shadowy sentence of despair as they grew resentful of we who held strong to our office key. These "Homies", these poor souls, trapped in the snare of family bonding. Drowning in the envious abyss that consumed them.
Plus: homeschooling. Yikes.
Of course I cannot truly speak on the Homies' collective behalf, but I can say that the situation took some getting used to between the Essentials' four walls. The terrifying feeling of being exposed and exposing others to you. Daily tasks being flipped and flopped. Completing small but time-vacuuming tasks for the majority of the team. Having to leave your bed to get to work on time after a nice long depression nap.
I was eternally grateful (and still am) for the work I was gifted; many people were not as fortunate as we. I was grateful for the normalcy. The perpetual motion. The back-and-forth with the other Essentials. And of course: grateful for this collective body of superheroes who supported me at work. These pros; these kings among men, who showed exponential patience, care and understanding in a new, cold, unsure world. If I needed a day off for mental health? I got it. Leave early for an appointment? Sure, why not. Arrive late to get to the grocery store to better avoid the five o'clock swarm? A girl's gotta eat, right?
I still recognized my active appreciation as I slowly slunk in my desk and unwillingly succumbed to the quiet panic and somber malaise that only a pandemic could bring. What was I feeling so dark and distant for? I still had my best friend and a home to share with them. My car to escape in. My job that I am wild about. I was even doing home-improvement at the new place. I still had my phone with enough data to make Tim Cook blush and yet here I was, feeling...down. I felt as though I didn't have the right.
Then the weather turned.
The Sun and its warmth gave me the courage to sink my teeth back into everything that is inherently me. More than just my cooking, baking, cleaning and unruly drive for organization; I was working out and reading and learning and singing and joking and laughing and - WRITING. Whatever the opposite for being thrown into a rebellious jet turbine engine was, that's what I was feeling.
And that's what I am still feeling. I have actually been left alone with myself for the proper amount of time. I have been granted the patience and gifted the circumstance to finally phoenix my way out of insecurity and frustration. I am mentally stronger and better than I ever have been. I'm the cerebral equivalent of the Six-Million-Dollar-Man. I even feel as though I have come full-circle on some things. But more on that later. I've got work in the morning, you know.
