Well, it has been yet another week, and it’s not even Thursday. But, hey. At least most of the things that have happened this week have been positive, and I look forward to the plans I have going on within the next several days. 

Most notably, my mom and little brother will be going back to Denver by plane, but only for a few days. Since I’m not exactly fond of flying (I actually have a rather severe phobia of being trapped inside a flying tin can with hundreds of other people for hours at a time, and the pandemic only makes that anxiety worse even though I’m fully vaccinated), this trip to Denver will be very short, my dad’s gonna be in Seattle over the weekend and into next week anyway for work (so I get to see him), the house is still in great disrepair and needs someone to keep a constant eye on it, the dogs need someone to stay with them, and I’m in desperate need of some peace and quiet, I get to hold down the fort while everyone else flies to Denver for a few days. 

I really am homesick for Denver, but if I travel with everyone over this week, not only will I not see my dad, but I won’t be able to do much except take a walk around my old neighborhood (which I dearly miss, but not enough to fly out there and see it). My mom will have the Rav4 for the whole time, my little brother will be with friends, the dogs will remain with a friend in Washington, leaving me at home alone all day long with nothing to do and no one to see. If writer’s group was meeting in-person again and my grandparents were available (my grandpa will be in Nebraska and my grandma isn’t yet comfortable seeing us in-person because she helps take care of my great grandpa), then I would’ve skipped onto that airplane like a little kid at the zoo. But, what’s the point of flying all that way just to sit in my bedroom for two days doing the exact same shit as I do now?

I know I’ll be in Colorado soon, anyway. Later this spring, when the mountain roads are safe to drive on, we’ll all head back home in the Xterra, and stay there for several months. I look forward to coming back home in the summer when things are (hopefully) a lot more normal and safer. I desperately miss seeing my friends and family in-person. I’d do practically anything to go out to lunch with my grandparents or hang out at the cafe with friends for writer’s group. I’d probably lick a dog turd just to spend fifteen minutes in either one of those situations, or something else like them. I miss Colorado’s wide open plains and snow-capped mountains, and I can’t wait to reunite with my passions for dirtbike riding, off-roading, hiking, and hunting in those breathtaking landscapes. I miss my Colorado home so, so, so damn much. God, my heart aches for it all. 

Of course, we’ll return to Washington in the fall, but by then, I’ll by able to fly to Colorado whenever I want to. The flights are cheap, my dad will happily lend the jeep to me whenever I need it, and I’m welcome to stay at my grandparents’ house whenever I want, regardless if they are there or not. In fact, I do plan on moving back home within the next few years or so, especially once I get used to going to college and know that my health won’t tank too badly. 

However, like all things, I have to take small steps towards those goals. We all do. We ain’t just gonna wake up one day in a suddenly pre-pandemic world. However, one day soon, covid will just be a distant memory. We will get back to seeing each other in-person again, and going to concerts, rodeos, ceremonies, weddings, conventions, parties, and everything else. We will get back to going to the grocery store without having to put on a mask. We will get back to traveling all over the world. We won’t be locked down forever. In fact, I have a mile-long list of reasons to believe the worst is long over. More and more people, including myself, have gotten their vaccines. It’s been almost two weeks since I got my second dose of the Moderna vaccine, and yesterday I got a wonderful taste of normality. 

I had a glucose tolerance test at my local lab clinic, which wasn’t the fun part. But, based on how I felt during the whole test, especially after drinking that nasty glucose drink, I think my pancreas is doing a lot better handling sugar than it used to. Of course, I had to fast before the test, so I was starving by the time it was over. 

I headed across the road to Panera Bread as soon as I could. My heart pounded in anticipation as I headed into the little restaurant at the height of the lunch hour. The place wasn’t packed, but for a pandemic, it was. Nearly every table that was available (Washington now allows indoor dining at 25% capacity) was taken, but I was lucky enough to get a table in a slightly hidden corner. When the waiter brought me my food, I thanked him, took a deep breath as I gathered my courage, and pulled off my masks. Silently, I thanked the Lord for my meal and for allowing me to experience that day. For the day that I’ve been dreaming about for an entire year, had finally come. I could safely eat indoors again, knowing that I was no longer at such high risk of even showing symptoms of covid, and was at an even lower risk of spreading the virus to others.  

Needless to say, that mediocre meal of chicken soup in a bread bowl tasted like heaven. I honestly almost cried I was so happy to be seated inside of a rather busy restaurant, slurping down a delicious, hot soup, with my masks in my pocket. It was a tremendous and satisfying “fuck you” to covid-19 (and to the doomers on the news who think this pandemic will never end), and proof that the world’s already slowly and safely returning to normality again. 

Hopefully, within a week or so, I’ll gather the courage to get my hair trimmed. Emotionally, I still feel like covid’s a ravenous grizzly bear and I’m a three-legged deer trotting around its den. I still feel like if anyone’s gonna get sick and die, it’s gonna be me. But, logically, I know this isn’t true. Logically, I know I’m more likely to get struck by lightning while I’m doing the dishes than end up on a ventilator due to covid since I’ve been fully vaccinated. Logically, I know it’s totally safe to get my split-ended mane professionally trimmed. It takes time for me to gather the courage to act on logic rather than emotion. But, given how desperate I am for social interaction outside of my household, and how badly I need a trim, I’ll be at the hair salon sooner than later. And, soon after that, I’ll probably be Denver bound!

We’ve all been singing those covid blues for a long, long time now. This past year or so has felt like a decade. We can barely remember our pre-pandemic lives. Most of us can’t recall the last time we’ve been to a crowded event or held a celebration, and every time we go grocery shopping these days, it feels like a risky adventure rather than a routine chore. Many of us have even forgotten what it’s like to hug and be hugged, shake hands, and simply just sit close to others. 

But, I’ll reiterate that we have many reasons to believe that the worst is behind us, and we’ll return to normal again sooner than later. But, I do hope that our new normal will be much more sanitary than before, kinda like how people didn’t start coughing and sneezing into their elbows until after the 1918 pandemic. However, masks will be optional, and also more socially acceptable than before. So, don’t be surprised if you see me around still wearing a mask here and there. It will just take me awhile to feel comfortable going to places without one again (in other words, it will take me awhile to break that habit of wearing a mask out and about everywhere). 

Stay strong, and stay healthy, y’all. We’re nearing the finish line. Seriously, we are almost back to normal. We got this!