By the standards of The Before Times, life is pretty lonely. We aren't socializing nearly enough. By the standards of Pandemic Times, we have an acceptable, practically ideal situation. We can still communicate with the people who really formed the basis of our peer group, and we still have our co-mingled safe zone. (The way T's GF put it, we might as well be living in a duplex with shared ventilation systems. It has been true since 2015.) Our emotional health is protected, as is our physical.
The online game night was scrubbed, but that didn't seem to bother anyone. We spend a lot of time keeping each other entertained. We can have lazy Sundays without guilt. Instead we shared a dinner with the other half of our isolation group and talked without screens interfering with our imaginations. A little old-fashioned banter to keep our brains sharp and tribal bonding was a welcome diversion after so much stress.
I've been teetering on the edge of a full-blown AI flare for weeks, while we are all worried over the health of the species and the global financial uncertainty of the next year or two. I only feel better when I remember to take my meds on time, and even then I am only a hair's breadth away from being aware of how much burning pain is always present but being ignored. Today, after making a side dish to take for dinner, I decided it was time to break into the special reserves for the dulling sort of pain. Between dinner and dessert, it all sank in. The all-over pain still exists, but somehow none of the signals from it are fully reaching my brain. I couldn't live like this all the time, but it sure is nice getting a short break from the monotony.
No comments:
Post a Comment