The Oxymoron We are Living

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I have so many thoughts, I don’t even know where to put them. Okay, so this pandemic feels like it’s over, but it not actually over. So we are living in this oxymoronic state that makes me, too, feel like I’m regularly irregular. On the one hand, I’m Easy like Sunday Morning (yes, I’m listening to the Commodores on Acoustic Sunday #Spotify). On the other hand, I feel sort of amped and maniacal. Now, before you go diagnosing me as bipolar or borderline personality disorder, I don’t gamble, go shopping, or indulge in crazy town risk-taking behaviors followed by a full meltdown (just slight ones).

So, like, today, it’s GORGEOUS out, and I thought, “Kids, let’s go to the beach!” But, that was soon thwarted by the thought, “Well, won’t that be kind of crazy to keep them six feet from other kids playing?” So, instead, I’ve chosen to continue to clean, organize and stay at home, a self-imposed shutdown, a living death (#oxymoron) But this has gotten super tired. Zzzzzzzz. I am boring myself. Talk about acute dullness.

So how can we stay apart, but together, together apart? I guess six feet. Anyone else having trouble determining how far six feet is actually? Like, do you do that field sobriety test, one foot in front of the other, like I do to measure? I’m not good at estimating. An exact estimate? It doesn’t seem possible.

And how about the openings of restaurants that are basically like still closed? So we can wear a mask in, and then take it off to eat and drink? That doesn’t seem to make much sense. I think we can agree to disagree on that one.

In the end, it’s all a giant oxymoron. I may as well just go to the beach.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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