Blink, blink, blink…
Oh boy, there’s that cursor again. I didn’t miss it. That reminder that I am sitting in front of my computer screen, failing.
Blink, blink, blink…
It’s taunting me. Reminding me that I haven’t written a thing in so very long I wonder if I can even call myself a writer anymore.
Blink, blink, blink…
“What do you post after a (more than) three month absence?” I hear it asking me.
I don’t have an answer. I just keep staring at that blinking cursor.
oh the anxiety…
Maybe that’s what I should write about. The covid-19 anxiety. The fear every time I leave the house and see all the idiots — yes, idiots, complete morons — refusing to wear masks or follow the simple arrows that Kroger and Meijer have placed everywhere in order to help maintain social distancing.
“I’m not a kindergartener, I do what I want!”said one woman as she defiantly walked the wrong way down the frozen veggie aisle at Meijer
Really? You’re kind of acting like one. My apologies. That was rude to all the kindergarteners out there.
met my inner demon
We were at Meijer one day in late May. Some industries had begun to open up, and my restless husband was wondering when they’d be getting back to work. One of his supervisors was walking through the store with his wife. They were not wearing masks.
Hubby to me: I’m going to go ask him if he has any idea when we are going back to work.
NOOOOOOOO! my inner demon growled back
I didn’t even know I could make a sound like that. Just the idea of my husband talking to someone who was defiantly not wearing a mask even though there was a state mandate in effect to do so was more than I could handle. He attempted to assure me that he’d stay six feet apart, but I was having none of it.
Medical professionals continuously tell us that wearing our masks and maintaining six feet of space from those not in our household can greatly reduce the risk of getting covid-19 and of spreading it. Yet there they are, idiots everywhere, absolutely refusing to wear masks as they congregate with friends in the aisles.
Will you still be so cocksure then?
The parents that refuse to wear masks, don’t put masks on their children, and then — with cocksure grins — go against the arrows down every aisle. What are you teaching your children? What are you going to do if one of them gets sick? If you leave them as orphans? If they bring coronavirus home to their grandparents?
What is wrong with people?
We go for walks around the neighborhood. Nobody seems to care about the virus. It’s like they figure if they just ignore it, then it will go away. I watch my neighbors throwing parties and having friends or family inside their house. I watch my daughter’s friends all hanging out. She’s the only one missing from their little group. They spend their time huddled in tight circles. None of them wear a mask. I feel guilty for protecting my little girl. What a funny thing to feel guilty for.
Sometimes it gets a little awkward
The other day, daughter and I took a walk up to the mailbox. Our mailboxes are at the front of our community, and we live nearer to the back. We were coming up towards the boxes. There was a car approaching from both directions, and there was a gentleman walking towards us on the same side of the road.
I froze, paused there in front of a driveway, uncertain where anyone is going or how to safely maneuver us through this bottleneck. The guy saw my trepidation, and paused — waiting for the cars to pass — before crossing to the other side. I shouted a very appreciative “Thank you!” his way and we continued on our trek to the mailbox.
WEAR A MASK!!
It’s not complicated. It’s not political. It shouldn’t be optional. People are dying. People are suffering. You can’t make this virus disappear by ignoring it. Wouldn’t it be nice? Maybe we’d even get back those we’ve lost.
Though I must say I assume those without masks haven’t really felt the devastation of this virus. It can’t be real to them. If they’d lost someone, if they’d nearly lost someone, they wouldn’t be so cavalier, would they?
funeral to come…
We lost my mother-in-law on April 1st. That was nearly three months ago. She was high risk. Recovering from pneumonia in a care facility, cutoff from her family and her fur babies. She was ready to come home. That’s what the doctors were telling us.
Then came the phone call.
There was an infection running rampant through her body. She was barely conscious and bordering on septic. They transferred her to the hospital. Then came another call. It was time to say goodbye.
My husband went with his father and sister to the hospital. The ventilator breathed for her. There was no other sound. There was no real goodbye. She wasn’t there anymore.
there’s no more closure….
And just like that, my husband lost his mother and my daughter lost her grandmother. That’s the reality of coronavirus. There is no goodbye. There is no closure. There is no funeral. She sits on a shelf, waiting for there to be funerals again. Waiting for it to be safe for the rest of us to gather and mourn for her.
WEAR A MASK!!!
That’s it. Wear a mask. That’s what I have to say. That’s the message. WEAR A DAMNED MASK!!Tweet