A Year

Things keep popping up on the social media feeds I’m marveling at how on one hand, while scary, there was a thread of positivity in the beginning. The “we’re in this together!” tagline attached to every commercial. It’s hard not to scoff at those sentiments, looking through the lens of hindsight. Between politics and the weaponizing of mask wearing and all of the events that happened last year, both public and personal, I’m finding myself in a place of cynicism. A coarseness or roughness that wasn’t so close to the surface last year. Like we are all just more abrasive now than we were last spring.

Seems like we did all the things; the crafts with the kids, the rock painting, mask sewing, and hanging of shamrocks and teddy bears and hearts in the windows. We “chalked the walk”. Much of it seems silly now.

Naive.

Frustrating.

I’m angry that people don’t wear masks properly – if at all. I’m angry that people downplay the severity of symptoms and think they are invincible, making excuses to travel and do whatever they like as if we are not living through a pandemic. Anger morphs into apathy. A resignation and understanding that people are generally selfish. Part of me doesn’t mind the mask wearing. People are gross, generally. Ask anyone who has worked in food service or in banking. People are gross and breathe in your face. Masks don’t bother me. I will happily wear one in public.

What bothers me most is the unwillingness of people to recognize that they are not only vulnerable, but that they can literally kill someone else and not even be aware of it.

Because they wanted to go out to eat.

A selfish desire leads to someone’s death.

Just doesn’t seem right.