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This is the anniversary of our quarantine year. Days are warmer and lighter, bringing back memories of the frightening and disorienting start of the pandemic. This is a confusing time for me: so many people have had their vaccines and can shift toward the new normal. I'm in phase 2 so am waiting, feeling depleted, feeling a confusing mix of hope, anger, fear, exhaustion and confusion. Work flows forward, filling my days -- some productive, some not. Despite my best efforts, I'm strangely less attuned to details. I forget to send dial-in details for Zooms, forget to cc key people, skip ahead in processes in ways that I might not have before. Maybe because of the isolation, I feel a lot of anxiety about these mess ups. I'm a freelance writer and editor so maintaining strong relationships with clients is crucial to my future earnings. I am doing the best I can. I'm trying to simplify my life with fewer volunteer involvements so that i can maintain better focus and carve out more time for well-being, self-care and peace of mind. I ordered seeds, potting soil and pots, and am eager to begin work on this year's garden. The snow drops are blooming in my garden. I look forward to trimming the lavender back for new growth, and am excited for a new well-contained bed of mint to grow so I can cook with this. Last night was President Biden's first address to the American people. His quiet kindness and calm, his competence and determination to help is a balm to my soul. I am terrified by the presence of so many people who are determined to deny voting rights to others. This moment of hope feels way too fragile.
March 13, 2021