(Being asked to) hold our course
We become complacent. We figure that someone else (at a different pay grade) will do the heavy hauling. And then the whole world gets slapped. War, pestilence, pandemic. Pick your monstrous moment.
I live in a bubble. We don’t get sick or sore (or tired) around here. And yesterday, the bubble minders drew the latch cord back inside. A mix of common sense and abject fear.
I was listening to the radio, as the announcer tried to show how things aren’t going well any more. Province to province to province. And I started to realize that we’re in for a long, hard winter. Not the snow; the psychology. I finally grasped that my next vacation might be far off in the future. Forget Christmas 2020. Don’t plan for a midwinter pause. We’re going to be at home; better make the best of things.
Remind me, again, about how good I have it. I need that. Right now, the future seems… what’s that word? Bleak. Here’s where I’m perplexed. I was told that if I would withdraw from society (sic), things would improve. And so, ten months into my self-imposed quarantine, I can do that “pat your own back” movement, and be proud about my tenacity. Unfortunately, a lot of others have not played by the rules. Right now, we’re at a worse point than we were back last winter.
Let’s put this down to a case of the jitters. Temporary. It will all soon be over. And if I feel a little too old for this, I’m in good company.
