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Exactly a year into the pandemic, I am restless and tired of it. Although I console myself with the fact that my family is extremely lucky -- we have adequate money, good housing, stable jobs -- it is still a strain to be living this odd half life, cut off from many of the things and people we love. The world and people are visible to us mainly through screens and at a distance. I heard a song by Nick Jonas, "Spaceman," in which he sings of his distance from others, and not being able to "get to them." He based it on his quarantine experience and the imagery captures the odd alienation so well. However, there is hope on the horizon. My husband got his first vaccine today, and in two days, I get mine. This is thrilling! Despite all the PSAs urging people to take the shot, it was remarkably hard to schedule. Supply has not kept up with demand and one has to stay up late at night, multiple tabs open on one's laptop, to find an open appointment, whether it's through an official govt. channel or at a drug store or a super market. Absurd and very frustrating. We did a smart thing though -- got our tech-savvy millennial kids to find us an appt. Using a special Twitter alert, they nailed it in a day! My 64-year-old husband had tears in his eyes when he got off the phone, having learned that our second born secured him a slot! I like to frame it up this way: When they were babies, we bundled up our daughters and took them to the doctor to be vaccinated. Now, they are doing this for us! The tables are turned. Although I am thrilled at returning to a more normal existence, i also worry that I will have difficulty with re-entry. That I will be anxious even in small groups of people. That I will feel extremely uncomfortable when strangers are close to me. I wonder if I am normal, or if these anxieties will simply melt away, like last week's snow. In the scheme of things, minor. Still, a source of worry.
March 19, 2021