I went out the other day. And I don't just mean outside for some fresh air, either. I literally masked up, got in an Uber, and ran an errand before Ubering back home. I've voluntarily done almost everything I need to from home for years at this point, so up until now, I've been able to stay the hell away from the outside world without changing much about my routine. And honestly, I would have been happy to continue that way indefinitely, but I needed to get a new ID and couldn't avoid visiting a DMV field office in person.
The DMV errand went just fine, but holy shit, has the world ever gotten weird in my absence. I'm, of course, well aware of how things have changed since the last time I was out frolicking around, never even having heard of COVID before. I knew what to expect in every way. But this was my first time seeing it all with my actual eyes and experiencing it in person. Seth came with me and also hasn't been out since the pandemic began, so I at least wasn't alone when it came to the perceived weirdness of it all.
It's one thing to know everyone masks up and social distances now, pretty much as a rule. It's another thing to actually visit places I've been to plenty of times before and see people doing it. It was a strangely similar experience to nightmares I've had in the past. In these nightmares, I'd visit places I either knew very well or had found very comforting in the past, but something vital would be wrong with them, suggesting it only looked like I was where I was supposed to be.
My sense of direction has always been terrible, so getting lost was one of my most persistent childhood fears. When I'm anxious, I still dream about it in various contexts, especially those that suggest I might just have to stay lost forever. So seeing definitive proof that COVID really has touched my town -- the place where I grew up and have lived off and on for most of my life -- was a little strange. I can actually kind of see why so many people have so much trouble accepting this reality and choose to deny it altogether because they don't know what else to do.
It makes me grateful to have a lot of the big things in life figured out by now, because this world full of sickness and greyness doesn't feel the same as the one I used to know. That makes me exceedingly uncomfortable. I'm glad I don't have to try to date or "meet someone" in this strange alt-world. I don't have to work in it, either. No matter where I might live in the future, my livelihood is online now, so I can keep working out of my home the way I have for many years now. I hope things will get better one day, but I'm glad I have the option of staying as safe as possible until it does.
That said, I'd still like to get out and about a little more often going forward once I finally get my vaccine and my new ID. But I think I'll be sticking to nature-heavy outdoor areas where there's plenty of fresh air and sunshine. I've never been a very social person or liked being around other people all that much, but COVID has me completely soured on going anywhere a lot of other people are likely to be, masked and vaccinated or not.
I'm not really sure how so many of my friends are happily hopping planes to jet around the world, going to concerts, and hitting up movie theaters like nothing's wrong right now. But I can't really justify it myself, because it's not worth it. As much as I would love to hit a concert, explore a new city, or go to a fair again someday, those experiences aren't worth getting horrifically sick and maybe dying or -- worse -- having it happen to Seth and having to go back to being all alone in the world.
My relationship, writing career, and home life have become the most important things to me over the years, and I'm realizing they probably always should have been. As long as I have those, I have everything I need. Everything else can wait, as it's not nearly as important.
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